


The Stars Are Beginning to Hide

by TheBluestBluebird



Series: The Stars Are Beginning to Hide 'verse (A/B/O of my dreams) [1]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asexual Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, No actual sex, Other, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26993479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBluestBluebird/pseuds/TheBluestBluebird
Summary: Mal likes to think that she’s tough, like living the first sixteen years of her life on a glorified prison island means something. She’s the big bad thing that goes bump in the night, not some pretty little princess who jumps at shadows and has a crisis after being caught making out in the library.
Relationships: (implied) future Ben/Evie/Jay/Mal/Carlos de Vil, Evie/Jay/Mal/Carlos de Vil, Evie/Mal (Disney), Jay/Carlos de Vil
Series: The Stars Are Beginning to Hide 'verse (A/B/O of my dreams) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050911
Comments: 15
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is 20k of self indulgent nonsense. The working title for this is literally just "A/B/O nonsense of my dreams". I have no excuses. 
> 
> This fic contains references to child abuse, sexual assault, and other nasty things that are implied but never really addressed in the Disney canon. These things don't happen on-screen, but they're pretty heavily implied and the characters deal with the effects. Use your own best judgement. 
> 
> As always, none of this belongs to me, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

They’re in the boys room when the first knock comes. 

Mal likes to think that she’s tough, like living the first sixteen years of her life on a glorified prison island means something. She’s the big bad thing that goes bump in the night, not some pretty little princess who jumps at shadows and has a crisis after being caught making out in the library.

(It’s not like being kicked out of the library is even a huge loss, not when she can just sneak in after hours, or send her boys out to get whatever she needs. Evie’s already bribed her way back in, so it’s not like it’s hard to get around the arbitrary restrictions the adults here keep trying to tie her down with). 

Mal may think that she’s tough, but that first knock still sets her heart beating a double-step in her chest. It’s probably nothing, just another student stopping by to check in or ask for homework help, but Mal is already on edge, and the knock feels like an attack on her already-fragile sense of self control. 

Mal glances at her pack, who are tangled up together on the floor, mostly hidden by the angle of the bed and the wall, finishing up dinner. She could always just answer the door herself, but she and Evie technically aren’t supposed to be in the boy’s room with the door closed, even though they’re in a group and not really breaking the stupid dorm sex rules. Just because the room smells like sweet, hormonally-charged sex pheromones doesn’t mean they’ve actually been doing anything. 

Whoever it is knocks again, and Mal rolls to her feet, ready to tear the door open and bite the head off of whoever is daring to interrupt her people, to tear them to pieces, swallow them whole to keep her family safe. She’s ready to move, but she stops when Jay calls out to whoever it is. “Hey! Just a second!” 

Right. His room. Probably better to play it safe and let her boy answer. 

It’s a young voice who answers. Less of a threat. “Okay!!” The kid calls back to them. It’s probably a student. An idiot, unaware of what Mal can do to him. 

Jay disengages from the tangle of bodies on the bed, pulling a clean hoodie on as he moves. It won’t do much to change the smell of him, of the room as a whole, but it might stall things for a moment, long enough to send the visitor on his way without revealing their potential weaknesses. 

Jay knocks his shoulder against Mal’s as he goes. “I got it.” he tells her. “Go sit with them.” 

Mal wants to move, she does. It’s just that she wants to rip whoever is at the door limb-from-limb  _ more.  _

Jay shoves her towards the bed. “Seriously, killer. Go hide. I got it.” 

Mal goes. 

++

The first kid was easy enough to scare off. Some idiot upperclassman from down the hall, who had clearly been sent by the dorm monitor to check on the psycho Isle kids, and make sure they hadn’t missed class today because they were building bombs or some shit like that. A glance through the room, which was reasonably clean, considering, and a quick reassurance that no, they were all fine, just victims of the bug going around, and the kid left them alone. 

Of course, because nothing can ever be that easy, the kid reported them to the dorm monitor. Who hates them. 

Perfect. 

There’s another knock on the door, not even half an hour after the first one. This time, it’s too much to hope that it will be just another student looking for them. It’s got to be a teacher, and Mal is going to be their best chance at scaring someone off, so she’s the one who has to get up out of the warm pile of bodies on the boy’s bed to answer the door. 

In her own sweet time, of course. The more Mal stalls, the longer the others have to get up and ready to run, if need be. Mal stretches, slowly, making enough noise that nobody could think the room’s occupants are asleep or dead. An obvious stall for time, ignoring the door, but Mal is going to do whatever works. 

Another knock, and then Fairy Godmother calls through the door in her sickly-sweet trill, “Is everyone alright?” 

Shit. Fuck. Of course the shitty upperclassman couldn’t just go to the dorm mother when he needed to snitch to someone. Of course he’d go straight to the headmistress. They’re the scary villain kids, after all.

“Fine!” Mal calls out. “We’re fine, no need to come in!” 

Fairy Godmother sounds confused. “Is that Mal? Sweetheart, I know you want to help your friends, but we’re going to have to ask you to come out of their room now.” 

Boots, boots. Mal hops a little bit, pulling them on. “In a minute!” 

Fairy Godmother raps on the door again, just in case Mal is an idiot and didn’t hear her the last three times she did it. “I don’t want to have to unlock this door, dear, but if somebody doesn’t let me in, I’m afraid I’m going to need to.” 

“Coming!” Mal calls. Finger through her hair, quickly, make it look a little less like rumpled bed head and a little more like an artfully tousled...something. Whatever. She’s an artist, she can pull it off. 

“Come a little faster, dearest!” 

Mal swings open the door without warning. “What.” she snarls. 

Fairy Godmother looks taken aback. “Oh. Hello.” She blinks, probably taking in Mal’s expression, or her outfit, or something. Whatever. Like she’s never seen a nightdress before. “We’re, ah, here to make sure that your friends are alright. They didn’t come to class today.” 

Mal glares. “They’re fine. We’re all fine.” 

Fairy Godmother frowns. And that’s Ben, behind her, making the same face. Great. He probably got dragged along to check on his villain project kids, because of course they need another student who can potentially smell them all up in their business right now. “Are you quite sure?” Fairy Godmother asks. “We could just do a quick check. Your dorm supervisor said that the boys were feeling a bit under the weather.” 

Think, Mal. Fuck. Play it nice, that’s probably the best bet. “They’re fine.” Mal explains. “Me and Evie brought them dinner and everything.” 

Fairy Godmother doesn’t seem especially convinced. She’s moving her head sideways, like some kind of demented bird. She’s probably trying to peek around Mal’s shoulder, but she’s not doing a very good job of it. Thank evil they’ve been keeping it dim inside, as well, so even if she could get a clear glimpse she wouldn’t see much. 

Fairy Godmother bobs her head. Giving up on peeking around Mal, she ends up clasping her hands together. “Can they come to the door, then?” she says, “Just so we can have a quick check-in, you understand.” 

Mal shakes her head, leaning forwards so she can pull the door a little further shut behind her. “They’re sick.” she says. “Puking everywhere. It’s been going around, right?” 

Fairy Godmother smiles in a way that reminds Mal uncomfortably of Evie’s mother. Most of her face is staying still, with only the corners of her mouth turning up. It’s fucking freaky, and it makes Mal want to slap her to make her stop. She doesn't, though, because sometimes being the alpha means being a useful diplomat, and not some kind of wild animal who slaps people just because she really, really wants to. 

“Yes.” Fairy Godmother says. “However, if your friends are so sick that they can’t answer the door, I really think they ought to take a visit to the infirmary, just to make sure that they really are just suffering from the standard bug that’s going around, and not something, ah.” she pauses to make a nervous little gesture with her hands. “Worse.”    
Mal frowns. “What do you mean?” 

Fairy Godmother is still giving her that stupid nervous smile. “Sometimes, dear, when you’re still new to a country, bugs hit you harder than they do other students. Because your immune systems aren’t adjusted. I really would like to check up on all of you.” 

Behind Fairy Godmother, Ben’s mouth is hanging open. He looks stupid, which is just fine with Mal, except she  _ knows  _ that stupid look, and if Ben calls them on it, if he knows what he’s reacting to, it’s going to be  _ so bad, _ and not in a fun way either. In a hand-over-your-family, potential assault way. Probable assault, if Mal’s experience so far has taught her anything, and that is so not something she needs to deal with this week, so she’s got to get them out of the way, and fast, before Ben opens his mouth to say something stupid. 

“We’re fine.” she says hurriedly. “We know how to treat a few rounds of puking, and really, Fairy Godmother,” Mal draws a little magic into her voice. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to add a little extra oomph to her words. “I think we would be more comfortable if we’re allowed to stay in our own rooms, instead of the infirmary. Moving around a lot, when you feel sick, it’s not good, right?” 

“Dear--” 

Mal cuts her off. “Okay, thanks for checking in, we’re all fine, I’m sure you’re so busy--” 

Ben lifts his hand. Oh, flaming shitbuckets. This can’t be happening. 

“Ben--” she tries. 

Ben gives her some kind of stupid kingly beta look that shouldn’t work, it shouldn’t, except for how Mal is frozen in fear right now, and it kind of does. 

He opens his mouth. 

++++

  
  


Fairy Godmother folds her hands over her desk. Framed by all the dark wood of her office, she looks impossibly tiny, just a little fluff of a woman. Not someone who should hold their futures in the palm of her soft, sweet-smelling hands. 

Well. Maleficent is tiny too, and just look at what she can do. 

Mal fights against the urge to straighten up. Fairy Godmother might be powerful, but someone who wears a bow larger than her own head isn’t someone that Mal is going to show any outward sign of respect to, not if she can help it. 

Fairy Godmother clears her throat, and looks around at her students. Once she’s sure that they’re all looking at her, she continues with what she had been saying before her daughter interrupted. “While we can’t require that you go on suppressants, we do highly recommend that all students at Auradon Prep have some form of hormone control planned out.” 

“We’re allowed to choose?” Mal asks. It feels too easy, to just be handed a tool this useful, when back on the Isle suppressants had been something to fight over, and were usually won by adults or scalpers who weren’t afraid to kill for them. 

“Of course you’re allowed to choose which medication you’d prefer!” Fairy Godmother explains. “We have birth control and suppressants available separately, as well as a double-dose, if you’d prefer to take less pills.”

“Can we have some time to think about it?” Mal asks. At Fairy Godmother’s nod, Mal stands up. The rest of her crew will know to follow. “Great, thanks.” 

“We’re not done yet!”

Mal offers up her best princess-perfect smile. “We need a minute.” 

Fairy Godmother falters. Her hands flutter over her desk for an uncertain second, and then settle back down in front of her, crossed over each other. Picture-perfect posture. “Well. I suppose we could have a brief recess, if anyone needs to visit the powder room.” 

Mal is already on her way out the door. She raises a hand in a loose wave. Her crew will follow her, if they know what’s good for them. 

Somewhere behind her, Evie chirps out, “Perfect! We’ll just--” she hesitates. She’s probably pointing towards the door, or something, where Mal is already outside waiting.. “go, then!!” she finishes, bright and cheery as she can be. 

++

Mal leads her crew through the hallway, which is full of offices,  _ useless,  _ and weird little alcoves with one suit of armor or a single sad-looking potted plant each, also useless. For evil’s sake, it’s almost like the good guys don’t want anyone plotting, with the way they go and fill all of their alcoves with useless knick knacks. Not a single hidden passage anywhere Mal can see, and she’s been looking. She rounds a corner, still heading into the section of the school that’s set aside from the students and cut up into little empty offices, and finally, a door without a stupid name label shows up. 

She pushes inside, not even caring if it’s a janitor’s closet (and really, kicking over some dirty mop water for someone else to clean up would really make her fucking day at this point), and is pleasantly surprised to find that it’s a bathroom, complete with a long mirror and one of those stupid little fainting couches that she knows Evie would have  _ killed  _ to have on the isle. 

The others slip in behind her. Good. Evie plops down on the little couch right away, making a little face at herself in the mirror as she does so. She looks perfect, as always, but she still checks herself every time they walk past a mirror. Mal is working with her on it, mostly by reassuring her that she’s always going to look good to them, always perfect and beautiful, no matter how pillow-tangled her hair gets or where her lipstick smudges end up by the end of the night. It’s an excellent process. Carlos throws himself down on the couch next to her, immediately crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his chin into his jacket collar. He’s upset, which is just fine with Mal. He can fucking deal with it. Jay comes in last, and stations himself in front of the door, leaning back on it to keep any potential nosy visitors firmly outside. 

Her face appropriately in order, Evie looks up at their leader. “So? What’s the plan, Mal?” 

Mal holds up a finger, cutting Evie off. “Hold on.” she snaps. A glance in the large mirror revals what look like empty stalls, but they haven’t gotten this far on carelessness. Mal moves quickly, kicking open each stall in turn. The clang of each door flying open feels good under her boots, and only when she’s sure that they’re all empty does she turn back to her crew and nod. 

Carlos yells at her first, unsurprisingly. “I can’t go on beta hormones!” he whisper-yells at her. “It’ll fuck with-- with everything!” 

Mal glances at Evie. “Eves? Is that right?” 

Evie cocks her head, thinking. “Well, yeah.” she says, already pulling out her mirror. “Kind of. I can double check.” 

Mal nods at her. “Do it. Never hurts to be sure.” 

Beside Evie, Carlos is rolling his eyes. He’s already slumped back on the couch again, arms tucked around himself. “It’s not gonna work,” he says. The implied  _ you idiots  _ is obvious. “Omega systems are fucked enough already. Adding more hormones to the mix isn’t going to fix me.” 

“You’re not broken.” 

He shrugs, already over his hissy fit. “Kinda am. It’s chill. What’re you guys gonna do?” 

Jay, still in his position guarding the door, speaks up. “We could take her up on the offer. Pills would make things easier.” 

Mal narrows her eyes at her second-in-command. He might be an alpha, but she’s the leader of this little pack, and that sounded suspiciously like he’s already made his decision. “She didn’t sound like she was giving us much of a choice.” 

Evie makes a squeaking noise. It’s not very elegant. “Ah!” 

“What, Eves?” Mal demands. 

Evie drops her hand. “Oh.” Her eyes are still flicking back and forth over the results in the mirror, but her face is rapidly falling. “Oh. Nevermind.” 

Carlos is trying to climb her shoulder like some deranged little monkey, trying to catch a glimpse of the words on her shiny screen. “What, what’d you find?” he demands. 

Evie is scrolling rapidly. “I found something about beta birth control being used by other orientations, but it was, uh,” she pauses to shrug Carlos off her shoulder, but he’s already sliding back down, just from her tone. “shown to be ineffective in 80% of patients, and damaging in about 3%. It’s not worth the risk. I’m sorry, C.” 

He sighs.. “Ugh. We knew that anyway. Not worth the risks. Mal, Jay? Are you gonna take it?” 

Jay glances over at Mal, holding eye contact a little longer than he usually would. Oh, so now he knows his place. 

“We should, right?” he asks her. “It’s gotta be safer than dealing with ruts.” 

Mal taps her fingers over the studs lining the seam of her jacket. It’s a familiar motion, comforting. 

There are risks with every choice they make, but bringing the number of hormonal idiots she has to deal with down by at least two, herself included, has to be more of a win than it is a loss, even though it kind of feels like letting Fairy Godmother win by giving in without a fight. Still, not dealing with teenage hormones is probably worth it

“I think we should take it.” she announces. Decision made. “They can’t make us take the pills once we’ve said yes, anyway, so we can all accept the offer and then keep the extra pills. We’ll find something to do with them.” 

Evie raises her hand. “Should I take them too?” she asks. 

Huh. It’s a fair question. Beta hormones don’t work the same way as alpha or omega instincts, so Evie is going to be dealing with a different set of side effects, if she chooses to take the medication. Even though birth control is rare to get on the isle, it’s not unheard of, and the advertisements for it are, bizarrely, available in almost every one of the stupid ‘six sex tips to make him feel like a prince’ magazines that Evie’s been collecting for her mother since she was a kid. 

Mal answers, “It’s up to you, E. I think it would be smart to have them, even just as a backup.”

Evie nods. “I’ll take them, then. Can’t hurt to try.” 

“Safer to take pills than chances,” Jay says quietly. Mal looks up, sharply, and he shrugs. “We all settled?” 

Mal nods. “Done.” 

++

Mal and her crew settle back into Fairy Godmother’s office like a storm cloud of leather. 

“We want the pills.” 

Fairy Godmother looks visibly taken aback, but maybe that’s just from Mal’s tone. “Excuse me?” 

Mal lifts her chin and repeats herself. “We want to go on birth control. All of us. Sign us up for the life of Auradon luxury!” She adds a little hand flourish at the end. Adults like it when she’s expressive. 

Fairy Godmother shakes her head. “Well then. Alright. Are you quite sure?” 

“We’re sure.” Mal says. She doesn’t look at her crew, and interestingly, neither does Fairy Godmother. The headmistress is already pulling out the forms from somewhere inside her desk.

“I’ll make sure to put it on your medical forms!” she says, looking up at her students only when the forms are laid out neatly on the desk in front of her. “Both forms of pills?” 

“What do you recommend?” Mal asks. They’re going to pick both forms, but letting people feel like they’ve convinced you of something is an easy way to get on their good side. Mal might not know much about Auradon Prep yet, but she’s positive that playing nice with Fairy Godmother for the time being is going to help her out in the long run. 

Sure enough, Fairy Godmother pauses, considering. “Well, hormonal control is a very individual decision,” she says, “and it really depends on what you want out of your medication, and it depends on the individual, what your body is going to need and respond to the best--” 

Evie steps up, smiling her candy-apple smile, not a single hair out of place. “We want all of it. I’m a beta, so I just need the birth control, please.” 

Behind her, Jay nods. “I want both of them.” 

Mal smiles. Play the good girl until you can get what you want. You might catch more flies with honey, but oh, you can put them in acid all you want once you’ve caught them. “Both for me, but in the separate pills, if you don’t mind.” 

“Excellent, you got it!” Fairy Godmother makes a note, then shuffles her papers and turns to their final member. “Oh. Beta male, I see.” 

Carlos jerks his chin up in something that’s not really a nod. “Yeah.” He tells her. Mal can read him well enough to see the fists he’s making inside his jacket pockets, but Fairy Godmother isn’t even looking at him as she notes their information down in her little notepad. “Excellent.!” she coos. “Shall we get on with the rest of your paperwork, then?” 

Thank gods. Mal lets out a little breath. One more hurdle cleared for now. “I’d love to.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal wants to sink her teeth into him. Oh she could just eat this boy up. It would be easy, this gentle beta boy, and he would like it, she knows, would thank her as she takes him and makes him hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry-not-sorry that this chapter is almost twice as long as the last one. Enjoy? 
> 
> Also, I updated the tags! Give them another peep if you wanna see what’s been going on in my favorite daydream universe since last week.

Mal is literally frozen. She can hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, but she can’t move, can’t open her mouth to do anything to stop what’s about to happen. 

Ben, in his incredibly gentle way, takes a step around Fairy Godmother so that he can see Mal. He doesn’t try to shove around her, or even look in the bedroom, just stands there. He’s so  _ ordinary _ . It’s not fair that he gets to ruin everything. 

“Is someone in heat?” he asks. 

Mal is positive that she looks like an idiot, standing here frozen. “What?” she says, trying to sound incredulous. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Ben takes another half a step forwards. He’s breathing deep, still drawing in the sweet, musky scent that Mal knows is clinging to her clothes. “It smells like heat,” he says. 

Mal makes a choice. “Get out.” she snaps. 

Ben stops dead. “Mal--” 

She’s fighting hard to keep her magic under control, but it’s hard to do when all her instincts are telling her is to defend her pack. “I said, get out!” she snaps. It’s the wrong move. 

Fairy Godmother snaps her fingers, It’s louder than it should be, more like a slap than a snap. She points her finger, directing Mal out of her way. “Come out here right now, young lady.” she says firmly. “And shut that door behind you.”

“Mal,” Ben says softly, almost pleadingly. “What’s going on?” 

He looks soft and golden and edible; Mal wants to sink her teeth into him. Oh she could just eat this boy up. It would be easy, this gentle beta boy, and he would like it, she knows, would thank her as she takes him and makes him hers. Mal breathes, in and out. Ben usually doesn’t smell like much of anything, but now that she’s really searching for it, he smells good. Not as good as the pack behind her, who have hopefully realized that something is wrong by now, and are busy getting the hell out of there now that the door is shut and they can get their shit together without drawing attention to themselves, but good all the same. 

Mal forces herself to laugh. “Would you believe me if I said it’s nothing much?” she asks. 

Ben frowns. “No.” 

Mal shows her teeth. It’s a pity that Ben is pretty. If he were worse looking, she wouldn’t hesitate to push him back, sink her teeth into him for real, the way she thinks about sometimes, in the fantasies she doesn’t share with her mother, the part that comes before she takes his throne from him and makes these Auradon royals regret the day they ever sent her mother to a prison island. 

Fairy Godmother frowns, flaring her nose like she’s trying to smell what Ben and Mal do. “Is Miss Evie in heat?” she asks. 

Mal almost laughs. Of course, these Auradon types would assume that the girl is the one who’s lying about her orientation. Of course. Girls are the ones who are soft and sweet and act like omegas are supposed to, and in all the fairy-tale stories that wash up on Mal’s nightmare shores, it’s always the story of the big strong alpha who comes in to sweep the sweet docile omega off of their feet, just like the princess stories that Evie’s mother told her all about when she was teaching her how to catch a big strong prince to sweep her off her soft princess feet. In the stories, the betas are always the clever middlemen, making peace between more volatile pack members, taking care of them all, and of course, Mal’s pack has accidentally been playing into the stereotypes without even realizing it. 

“Mal--” Ben says. 

“If she’s in trouble--” Fairy Godmother breaks in. 

Mal makes a decision. “You can’t do anything to them.” she says. 

Ben frowns. “Them?” he repeats softly. 

Fairy Godmother is talking over him. “If Evie, or anyone else, is in trouble, dearest, we only want to help them--” 

“Nobody’s in trouble,” Mal lies smoothly.  _ Yet,  _ she adds for herself. “We’re good. Just some stuff going on, nothing out of the ordinary, you know how it is.” 

Fairy Godmother scrunches up her face, still trying to smell when Mal and Ben can’t help but notice. “If someone is in heat, that’s trouble, sweet. You’re all supposed to be on suppressants. If nobody’s in trouble then why would they fail?” 

Mal shows her teeth. “Sometimes suppressants fail. Didn’t they teach you that in your fancy Auradon schools?” 

“I--” Ben is trying to break in. 

Fairy Godmother continues speaking over him, as if he and Mal had never spoken at all. “The most important thing is making sure that everyone is safe. Mal, dearest, you need to let an adult inside that room. Are you going to be able to do so on your own, or do you need to take a little chill pill?” 

Mal can feel the fake smile slide right off her face. If this sorceress thinks that she’s getting anywhere near Mal’s pack right now with Mal at anything less than full capacity, she’s going to have another think coming. And then a meeting. With Mal’s fists. 

“If I let you drug me, I don’t want to see what’ll happen to your body. They’re going to be pissed that I let you inside.” 

Fairy Godmother makes the kind of annoyed-but-hiding-it face that she seems to put on a lot around Mal. It looks strained. “I understand that.” she says, all fake-sweet and dripping with goodness-knows condescension. “We’re not exactly strangers to teenage hormones here at Auradon Prep.” She lets out a little laugh, like it’s just the funniest thing she’s ever said, telling Mal that she’s dealt with teenage hormones before. 

Mal wants to rip the stupid fake smile off her face. Sure, Fairy Godmother might be used to Auradon teengers, but until she’s dealt with a horde of pirates trying to break into her territory because apparently she ‘broke’ their omega’s ‘heart’ (not like Uma had one to start with), Fairy Godmother can stuff it. 

Mal shoots her a fake little smile right back. She can get fucked if she thinks she’s getting inside before Mal’s pack is gone. “You haven’t seen Isle hormones yet. I’ll let you in, but you have to let me go in first. And, like, don’t expect it to be pretty.” 

Fairy Godmother sweeps her hands out in front of her. What a stupid move. Opening herself up for attack, and for what? “Lead the way, dear.” 

Mal snorts, letting out a bark of derisive laughter. “Hah!” There. That should be loud enough to get her pack’s attention, if she didn’t already have it. Mal leans back against the closed door, and kicks it twice with the heavy heel of her boot. She jerks her head over at the prince.  _ Not yours,  _ something in her hindbrain tells her.  _ Not your prince. (Not yet).  _ “Ben has to leave.” 

Ben’s mouth drops open. “Hey!” he protests. 

Mal leans back on the door, blocking any noise that might come through with her body. “No offense, your highness, but bringing another unfamiliar person in is only going to make things worse. Have you ever seen someone in heat?” 

“I--” Ben stutters, “ no--not exactly.” 

Well. This is going to be fun. Mal flips her hair at him, wafting her scent towards his apparently sensitive nose. “It’s not quite what you read about in your stories, your highness.” 

Ben’s pupils dilate. Interesting. Mal files it away for later, something to chew over when her pack isn’t in danger. She leans towards him, and even though he leans back, his eyes are still glued to her mouth.  _ Very  _ interesting. Mal flickers her tongue out to wet her lips, and Ben’s eyes follow. Enough, for now. She spins around and shoves open the door. Her pack is fast. They should be out by now. “Here we go!” 

++

Mal is letting someone in to her pack’s room, into their best attempt at a safe space, into the same space where her vulnerable fucking  _ family  _ was huddling together not even five minutes ago. 

Fairy Godmother takes a single step into the room, then stops dead to look around. The door is still hanging open. Ben is still waiting outside. Mal feels a little bit like her skin is going to peel off if she moves another muscle.

“Oh, goodness.” Fairy Godmother breathes, then, catching herself, rallies into her usual perky tone. “You’ve certainly been busy, haven’t you.” 

Mal shrugs. The boy’s room isn’t half as bad as hers. Sure, the dresser is flipped over, and all of the non-essential doors are hanging open, but they haven’t been here long enough to really get the room set up the way hers and Evie’s is. The windows are still exposed, for one thing, and the bathroom door doesn’t have any towels shoved under it. 

Right. Bathroom. That’s a plan. “They’re probably in the bathroom.” Mal says. “You should check there first.” 

Fairy Godmother stops “Mal--” 

Mal cocks her head towards the closed bathroom door. They may not have had time to set anything up in there, but honestly, the boy’s bathroom can be enough of a trap sometimes. “You wanted to see! Go take a look.” 

Fairy Godmother stands her ground. “I have been working with teenagers for a very long time, Mal. I understand when you’re trying to distract me.” 

Mal shows her teeth. “Is it working?” she asks, sweetly. 

Fairy Godmother purses her lips, looking for all the world like she’s an innocent teacher, and not the kind of sorceress that Isle kids get told about in their nightmare tales. Mal can remember the first time her own mother told her about the mainland’s guardian, the sorceress with the power to transfigure the forms of others with a single wave of her wand. The woman in front of her may look unassuming, but Mal knows that she’s anything but. “No, sweetheart, it is not.” 

Shit. Fuck. Switch it up, Mal, come on. She digs her fingers into her palm, into the fresh scrapes there, bringing blood to the surface and stinging tears to her eyes. “What if I’m not lying? It’s never been this bad before, Fairy Godmother. We don’t know what else to do.”

“Mal--” 

Innocent. Scared. Mal hunches her shoulders in, trying to project frightened vulnerability. She flings an arm out towards the bathroom door. “Look for them!”

Fairy Godmother looks takes aback. Good. Keeping her off balance will give the others more time to get out of the way. “Mal! Sweetheart, calm down. They’re not here, are they?” 

“I don’t--”  _ know.  _ It’s not technically a lie. They’re probably not at the stacks yet, not with so many people still out and in the way. They probably won’t be able to make it inside until later. “Have to tell you anything.” She finishes instead. It’s probably not the best choice she’s ever made in her life, but her skin is crawling with energy and she feels out of control, and talking back is better than lashing out.

“I need you to tell me where they are,” Fairy Godmother explains gently “This is a matter of keeping your friends safe, Mal.” 

Right. Safe. Mal scoped out the school’s heat facilities already, just as a backup, and she knows that the panic rooms they have in the western tower aren’t anywhere near what her pack needs. They’re barely the space of a closet, nowhere near big enough to fit all four of them in one room, even if they squish. “We can take care of ourselves,” she says. They’ve been dealing with this for years, and separating them out into the tiny panic rooms, close enough to yell for each other, but too far to offer comfort, isn’t offering them safety. It’s giving the school control, and Mal is not feeling especially inclined to give up any of the control she’s fought so hard to get, especially when it’s not just her she’d be giving up, but her pack as well. 

Fairy Godmother is turning slowly, still taking in the room. “I know you can, but you don’t have to keep them safe all on your own here.” 

Mal glares. She’s not going to see anything just from looking. Her pack isn’t stupid enough to leave something obvious behind, like a note or an open window or whatever Fairy Godmother is looking for. “We’re doing just fine on our own.” 

“I sincerely hope so.” Fairy Godmother says. “I don’t want to cause you any more stress, sweetheart, but it is my job to protect my students, and I can’t see that your friends are safe until you tell me where they are.” She steps forward, moving towards Mal. There’s a sparkle in the air about her that Mal does  _ not  _ like the look of, not at all. 

It hits Mal, then, what’s going on. Fairy Godmother is gathering a spell. She’s going to try and magic the information out of her. Shit, shit, shit. “You can’t touch my pack!” Mal cries, and shoots her own spell first. 

++++

  
  


Jay is lying on the shitty couch in their shitty hideout. He’s kind of thinking about getting up to dump out the purple rain bucket soon, just based on how the little drip-plonk sound the rainwater makes is starting to sound more like a splash, when the door to the hideout swings open. 

Oh, shit. On one hand, hes’s supposed to care about using their secret knock, which doesn’t really serve a fucking point, does it, Mal has said, if they don’t fucking use it. By all rights, he should probably be beating up anyone who comes in without using the knock. On the other hand, it’s Carlos, which is fine. 

Wait. 

Jay swings his feet down to sit up properly. They haven’t seen Carlos for almost a week, which happens sometimes, but doesn’t usually end with the kid bursting in looking like this particular breed of hot garbage.

And, seriously, this is some hot garbage right here. Jay’s seen Carlos with his head literally in a toilet before, and he somehow still looks worse now than he did then. Something about the circles under his eyes, probably, and the way he’s dripping water on the floor. “Where have you been, furbrain?” Jay asks. 

Carlos glares. It’s a little less effective than usual, what with him looking like a drowned rat and all. Must be raining harder than usual. “Heat.” he says, shortly. “Do we have water?” 

Oh, Jay thinks. Well. That would explain the rough look, probably, especially if someone caught him on the way over. 

Wow. 

“Shit, dude.” he says out loud. “Sit down, I can grab you the water.” 

Carlos is already moving, staggering over to where they keep their main stash of food and water. “I got it. I’m fine.” 

Jay is standing up anyway. “Full offense dude,” he says “you’re not. You look like shit, seriously. Sit your ass down and I’ll grab the fucking water.” 

Carlos rolls his eyes, waving the water bottle he’s pulled from their stash. “Got it now.” He’s swaying on his feet at the motion, so Jays sidles over to stand closer to him anyway, just in case he does fall over.

“I can see that,” Jay says. “You wanna sit down before you fall over?” 

Carlos snorts, but he’s bending his knees anyway, braced for the fall they both know is inevitable. “Not gonna fall over,” he mumbles. “M’good.” He pops the top off the water bottle, drinks half of it in a few long gulps, and then spills the rest of it down his front as his hands start shaking. 

Okay. That’s enough of that. Jay crosses over to their little kitchen space in a few steps, and wraps his arm around his friend’s shoulders. He tries not to think of their youngest gang member as  _ little,  _ or  _ cute,  _ or anything else that implies weakness, but it’s hard not to realize how small Carlos is when Jay is holding him like this. 

“C’mon, man. You’re barely standing up.” Jay shoves him towards the crappy couch they dragged up from the curb a few months ago, when they first started sharing the space and realized that with the four of them together, they needed more than just a half-decent mattress and the fireplace. “Come here.” 

Carlos goes. “I’m  _ fine, _ ” he complains, but he goes. It’s mostly a token protest anyway, and he even lets Jay sit down first, so he can throw himself down on top and pretend that it’s an accident that his soaked, sweaty head is resting against Jay’s neck. Mm, Jay thinks. Sweaty boy smell. Sure, maybe some part of him wants to bite Carlos, to lick his neck and rub his face against the scent glands there and claim him as  _ mine mine mine _ , but that’s not what they do, so. It’s whatever. Jay’s dealing with it. 

Boots thump behind them. Mal’s back from her trip behind her little bedroom curtain, and she probably heard all of it. “You don’t have to be.” she says. “Fine.” 

Carlos laughs, maybe, but it’s barely more than a rough exhale against Jay’s shoulder. “Hey, Mal.” he says. “Nice to see you. How’ve you been.” 

She scowls. “You look half dead. Why didn’t you call us, fuckface?” 

Carlos shoves his face into Jay’s shoulder like he’s trying to smother himself there. “I was a little bit busy not getting knocked up by my mother’s henchmen, but thanks for your loving concern.” 

Mal leans over to smack his shoulder. If she maybe, possibly, leaves her hand there a little bit longer than she usually would, none of them are going to tell on her. “We didn’t know where you were, idiot. We would’ve come looking for you.” 

Carlos tilts his head back to look at her. “I know.” 

“Well,” Mal pushes herself up off the couch and over to the kitchen. “you’re here now. Do you need food? Water?” She glances back at them. “You need water.” 

Carlos flops a hand, but he’s already sprawled out on top of Jay and fading fast. “Just had a bottle.” he mumbles. 

Mal snorts. “You need more,” she says “Heat dehydrates you.” 

Carlos is most of the way asleep. He’s kind of heavy, but it’s mostly a comforting weight, spread out across Jay’s chest and giving off a nice body heat. Even with the damp clothes, it’s nice. Cozy. “Mhm.” he mumbles. 

Jay shoots Mal a look, which she doesn’t return. “Like you’re a heat expert.” 

Mal is banging around in their kitchen corner. “I’d think I know more than you, mr. I-only-fuck-betas. Besides, I’m not the one who dropped out of Human Anatomy And Torture, am I?” 

Jay frowns. Just because he usually fucks betas doesn’t mean he’s against fucking anyone else. He’s just not into being, like, committed and shit. “Hey, I’d fuck anyone. Betas just love me.” 

Mal steps back over to the couch to whack him on the head with the spoon she’s just pulled out of their kitchen box. They might not have a lot of food and stuff stored up right now, but a good spoon is surprisingly easy to come by. “Must be that lack of brains in your head,” she says “I hear all the pretty girls go for guys who’re dumber than a box of rocks.” 

Jay flips her a token middle finger, but he’s laughing. He’s got a pretty little omega sleeping on his chest, a feisty alpha here to keep him company, and somewhere out there in her castle, a gorgeously talented beta who takes care of all of them. “Oh, fuck you.” 

“You wish.” Mal says, but she’s laughing too., on the inside. Jay can tell. It’s all in the eyes. He sticks his foot out before she can walk away, hooks it around her thigh. 

“Yeah?” he says. “I’m pretty sure you were the one thinking about it last night.” 

Mal flushes. It’s still weird, even after all these years of knowing her, to see her pale cheeks turn purple-blue with fairy blood when she’s embarrassed. “Oh--” 

Jay smirks. “You  _ were _ listening in, right?” 

She moves to smack him, but at the last second seems to think better of it, and flips him off instead, moving back to the kitchen to finish whatever she’s doing. “Fuck off.”

Jay grins. “Mm, I think I’d rather fuck you.”

Mal snorts. She looks kind of pissed, in a way that probably means it’s time for Jay to back off. Well, he’s never had much of a sense of self-preservation. The next time Mal steps in range, he pokes her again, trying to draw her closer without moving so much that he wakes Carlos up. 

Mal snaps. “Oh, I’m who you’re interested in, now?” 

Shit, shit. “Mal--” 

Mal moves closer, dangerously. She’s really mad. Whoops. “I should wake him up. See who he’ll pick.” she snaps. 

Jay tries to pull away, but he’s pretty firmly trapped between the back of the couch and the sleeping kid on top of him. “Don’t--” 

She takes another step closer. She’s got a bottle of disgusting red drink in her hand, and a glint in her eye that never means good things. Jay tries to twitch out of her way, but it’s hard, what with the warm body sprawled across his own, heavy with sleep, and really, moving any more is going to be counterproductive to the goal of keeping Carlos asleep. 

Mal dangles the bottle next to C’s face. She taps it against his nose. “Hey, furball.” she croons. “Fuzzface. Wake up, _ babe. _ ” 

++

Carlos wakes up feeling more comfortable than he has all week. He’s not too cold, or burning up from the inside out anymore. It’s pretty great. He seems to be on top of someone, but that could be fine--oh. Right. Jay. 

That’s fine, then. He’s allowed to sleep with Mal’s crew now. Mal lets him, and he doesn’t even have to do much for her that he wasn’t going to do anyway, and running with her means he gets hit less at school, so really, being allowed to sleep on Mal’s enforcer, an all-around win. Carlos could probably go back to sleep, actually. That would be good. He turns his head to try and avoid whatever unpleasant thing is brushing his face, but instead of being  _ nice  _ and letting him go  _ back to sleep  _ like a good crew would do, the thing bops him again. 

Ugh. All things considered, waking up might not be the worst idea ever. Carlos opens his eyes to see Mal standing over him, dangling something red in one of their plastic bottles next to his head. 

“Here. Drink this.” she demands. 

Carlos makes a token effort at sitting up. His entire body still kind of hurts, even though his bones don’t feel like hot soldering rods trying to burn their way out of his body anymore. “What’sit” he mumbles.

Mal shoves the bottle into his hand. “Gatorade, you suspicious fuckwit. It’s good for you.” 

Both boys pull identical faces, but Carlos takes a sip from the bottle anyway. The isle doesn’t get the good stuff they’ve seen advertised in the papers that make it over. They get the shitty, clumped-up leftover drink powder that’s just as likely to have bugs in it as not. Still, it’s useful to have around when someone inevitably gets sick, and it does help.

Ugh. It tastes like salty feet, just like always. He takes a longer drink, and then thoughtfully, in his opinion, leans over to spit out the clump of bug eggs onto the floor, rather than on the couch. Ugh. Alphas are supposed to care about keeping their omegas happy, or something, and this is  _ not  _ making him happy. Carlos sticks out his lower lip and looks up at Mal through his eyelashes, like he does when he needs something special from Jen the barge worker who thinks he’s hot. It usually works for him then, so maybe Mal will be impressed too. 

“S’gross” he tell her. 

Jay pats him on the ass, in a gesture that’s probably supposed to be friendly or sympathetic or something like that. It’s not Mal, but it’s not nothing.. Jay is usually the one who has to drink gross things in the name of not passing out, although they’re usually things that Evie mashes together for him, rather than buggy electrolyte juice. 

Mal pats him on the head, less sympathetically. Ow. “I don’t care,” she tells him. It’s probably true. Mal is good at not caring about things. “Do you need anything else? Food?” 

Does he need food? Probably not. He’s pretty sure he ate most of his stash before coming over here. Or, at least, before that last wave of being  _ hot-sick-itchy  _ hit, and he’s pretty sure that was this morning, so. He should be okay for a while yet. “Not hungry.” 

Mal frowns. “Too bad. You need to eat something before you go to sleep.” 

Too late. Carlos is already half asleep again. At least he got the bottle closed first. Three days of constant awareness, of hiding and running and hiding again, all while his body burns up from the inside out, can make a guy pretty tired. “Orwha’?” he mumbles. 

Mal does something nice with her hand in his hair. “Or I’m going to shove it in your unconscious mouth and watch you choke.” she says. 

Carlos would nod, but Mal’s hand is holding his head still. “Kay.” he says. “Wake m’up.” 

++

Some indeterminate amount of time later, Jay can’t feel one of his legs, and Mal is back from doing whatever mysterious Mal stuff she does behind her curtain. True to her threat, she has a can of something dented in her hand, and a knife. 

Mal thunks the can down on the table. It’s not like any of them will ever turn down food, but Mal can’t feel how hot Carlos is still running, so Jay makes an unsure-eyebrow face at her. Sometimes, a safe place to sleep is a more valuable resource than a few bites out of the more questionable cans. Which, okay, they’ve been running pretty low lately, but seriously, this one looks like it might be rusted nearly all the way through on one side. 

Mal, because she is an evil mastermind, picks up on Jay’s face. “I know.” she says. “The fucking pirates are puppyguarding the barges again, so there’s nothing better. You think we should let him sleep?” she finishes, tilting her head to turn it into a genuine question. They’ve never dealt with this exact situation before, with the heat thing, so it makes sense that she would want a second opinion. (the pirates, well, they’ll deal with them just fine.) 

Jay shrugs, careful not to disturb the uncomfortably warm weight of the teenager sleeping on his chest. “I dunno. He’s still kind of warm.” 

Mal looks at them. She frowns, then sighs. “Sleep. We’ll make food later.” 

“Are you going out?” 

Mal pauses. “Just to patrol.” She says. “In case.”

Jay nods. It’s never a bad idea to keep people away from the warehouse, especially when one of them is down like this. “Smart.” he says. 

Mal smirks. “I do try.” she says, before slamming her way out the door. 

++

Not so long after Mal goes out to patrol, there’s the noise of heels coming up the stairs, and then their knock sounds on the door, and Evie bursts inside in a flurry of damp leather layers. Her hood gets thrown on the table, her cape dropped on the floor, and her bag gets set lovingly down against the table leg. Thoroughly divested of her burdens, she shakes out her curls. “I’m here!” she calls out. 

“Eves?” Jay calls back. 

“Jay?” Evie asks out as she walks fully into the room. Whatever else she was going to say dies in her throat when she sees both boys sprawled out together on their couch. “Oh, gods. You found him?” 

Jay would shrug, if he wasn’t still trapped under an increasingly heavy feeling kid. “He found us, actually.” 

Evie drops to her knees next to the couch, already running her hands over Carlos’ body as she checks for injuries. After the time that Mal broke her ribs and didn’t realize it for almost a week afterwards, Evie’s trying to be better about making sure her people are whole and healthy. “What happened?” She asks. 

Before Jay can explain, Carlos twitches. He’s not awake yet, but he untucks a hand and flops it ineffectually at Evie. “Muh.” 

Jay shifts. Ouch. For such a little dude, Carlos is kind of heavy to have sleeping on top of him for the better part of an hour. Jay didn’t want to wake him up, but now that he’s halfway up anyway, Jay figures he might as well move around. His ass is totally numb, so maybe staying still wasn’t his best idea ever. 

He shakes Carlos’ shoulder a little, just to speed up the process. “Oh, you’ll wake up for Evie?” He asks, but gently. It’s better to wake people up slowly, just in case they flail. “I see how it is, Evie’s everyone’s favorite, huh?” 

Carlos twitches again. He might not be moving, but Jay can tell that he’s awake now. “You wanna wake up and tell her why you’ve been missing?” 

Evie pats Carlos’ arm, stroking him like he’s a cat. It looks kind of soothing. Jay’s a little bit jealous. 

“It’s okay, C.” she says. She’s glaring at Jay, which is totally uncalled for. She’s the one who woke Carlos up in the first place. “You can go back to sleep. Jay can tell me what happened.” 

Carlos sits up, nearly elbowing Jay in the face in the process. “I’m up now. Uh. I—- heat?” 

Jay shifts, trying to get the feeling back in his legs. Ouch. Pins and needles. “Our sweet baby is a man now. First heat.” 

Carlos is rubbing his eyes, like he’s not really quite awake yet. “Yeah.” 

“Oh, baby,” Evie reaches out to pet a hand over Carlos’ sweaty curls. Quick as a snake, she reaches down with her other hand to pinch at the skin of his hand. 

“Ow, Evie!” Carlos jerks his hand back to his body, out of her reach. “What the fuck was that for? I got through it on my own!” 

“You’re dehydrated. Have you had water since you got here? Boys, honestly, you never know how to take care of yourselves when you need it.” Evie says. She hops up off the ground and strides over to the kitchen area. They may have running water on some parts of the Isle, but an abandoned warehouse isn’t a top priority for having the plumbing restored, so she fills up a mug from their water cooler. They try to keep a decent number of filled water bottles around, and the cooler, which is hopelessly dirty on the outside, works well enough for keeping water around when their bottles run low. 

Evie fills the mug, and presents it to Carlos. He rolls his eyes, but drinks it without too much of a complaint. Either Evie didn’t fill it up all the way, or there’s something to this whole dehydration thing, because it only takes a moment before the mug is empty, and Carlos is laughing. “You’re all going to be like this now, aren’t you?” he says. “Every single one of you.” 

Jay jostles him with a shoulder. Friendly-like. He kind of wants to offer more stuff to Carlos, to see if he can get him to laugh like that again. “Probably, furbrain. You don’t like it?” 

Evie looks between the two boys, confused. “What?” she demands. “ Like what?”

Jay grins at her “Nothing!” 

Carlos looks away. “Nothing.” he echoes. He’s still grinning. He looks kind of deranged, but it still makes Jay glow inside. Fuck yeah, he’s a good alpha. 

Evie looks about three seconds away from stomping her foot in anger. Ah, the temper of a castle-schooled princess. “What is it? If you’re keeping something from me, I’ll make Mal tell me when she gets back.” she threatens. 

Carlos breaks first. He always does, for Evie. They’re a weird little pair of misfits. “The first thing all of you did today is give me water.” he explains. 

Evie shakes her head. “Oh. Well, yeah. You’re ours.” At their blank looks, she goes on. “You’re  _ ours _ . We have a biological imperative to take care of you? It’s been pretty well-documented in all the literature. Pack bonding is one of the strongest instincts humans have, and even in teenagers.” Evie makes a gesture between the three of them, “It’s still present. Biological imperative.” 

Carlos scrunches his face. “Gross.” 

“Yeah. Well.” Evie shrugs. “You’re gross.” 

“Hey!” Carlos burst out. He looks-- actually offended, maybe? “I took a bath before I came over here!” 

“You did?” Evie asks. “Really? In this weather?” 

Carlos ducks his head. Jay wants to touch him, bundle him up and keep him safe forever, but that’s still not what they  _ do,  _ so he settles for swinging an arm around C’s shoulder instead. 

“I didn’t want to bring people here, in case I smelled, y’know. Like heat.” he says. 

Evie leans down to press a kiss onto Carlos’ sweaty head. “That’s my smart boy,” she whispers. “You did good, baby.” Her hair swings down in a sleek blue curtain around them, and they all pretend not to notice the way that being surrounded by Evie’s soft soapy beta scent makes both boys breathe in a little deeper. “We’re here now,” she goes on, “and you’re here, and Mal is out protecting us all, and you’re safe.” 

The knock sounds, and Mal thumps her way inside. “Mal is back, actually.” she announces. “Coast is clear.” 

Evie springs to her feet, and practically flies into Mal’s arms. “Mal!” she squeals. “Babe!” 

Mal catches her, of course. The girls are just like that, all kissy whenever they get back together, even if it’s only been a few hours since they last saw each other. It would be kind of gross, if it wasn’t so cute. Mal still blushes all purple whenever Evie kisses her in private, and yet somehow, they still manage to pull knives on each other in public at least once a week. 

Girl relationships are a mystery, Jay decides. Not like boys, who are way easier, usually. With boys, all you need is a good look and a nod, and they’re hooked. Girls take all of the effort to pull, all the kisses and promises and stuff. Boys are easy, by comparison. 

Beside Jay on the couch, Carlos makes some kind of soft noise of disgust. Boys are easy, of course, except when they hate kissing, and don’t pick up on meaningful looks, and sleep on your chest when they’re sick. Boys are  _ so  _ easy. 

Except when they aren’t. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there a plot???? I don't know either. Enjoy :)

Sunday, 11:36 pm. 

“They’re going to know something’s up if none of us show up for class.” 

“I know that!” Mal snaps. She’s been awake for something like a day and a half at this point, and her eyes are starting to feel gritty from the lack of sleep. She rubs at them, frustrated with herself. Evie doesn’t deserve to be snapped at, she reminds herself, just because you’ve been too on edge to sleep. 

Evie, for her part, seems to notice that Mal is losing her shit. She reaches out to catch Mal’s cold, tired hands between her own, holding them tight, stroking over the back with her warm, gentle fingers. 

Mal stares at them. Evie’s nails are just as perfect as always, neat blue polish with little star-shaped glitter on her middle fingers only. She’s thinking about what Evie would do if she took those perfect fingernails into her mouth, what she might say if Mal wanted to rub her warm hands all over her face, mark her up with scent and red scratches, when Evie takes a hand back. She waves it in front of Mal’s face, perfect nails blurring into a flash of blue. “Hello? Earth to Mal?” 

Mal shakes her head. “I’m here. What did you say?” 

Evie sighs. “I  _ said,  _ we could go out in shifts, maybe?” 

Huh. That could work, maybe. Keep at least one person in, to take care of things, while the others go to class. Swap out enough that everyone gets a chance to show up, throw off the teachers who care the most, call out for the ones that won’t give a damn. “Can we? Smelling like this?” 

Evie shrugs, “We do have a bathtub. We could wash and leave right away. Go out in cycles, so he’s not alone.” 

“Can we?” Mal gestures to the pile of blankets hanging off the side of the bed, where both boys are tangled up, asleep. “Can we really do that, Evie?” 

The heat’s been hitting them hard this month. Mal doesn’t remember it ever being this intense, back on the Isle, not even the time that their original dealer gave them an intentionally laced batch of suppressants and they were all tripping balls as well as the usual symptoms. That had been a bad time. 

Evie’s leading theory is that the adequate food and sleep they’ve been getting for the past few weeks means that their bodies finally have enough energy to support the cycles they should have been having all along, and the only reason that Mal and Jay aren’t going completely insane is because of the suppressants that they’ve been taking. Mal thinks that it’s no wonder Fairy Godmother and the administration pushed the suppressants on them so hard, if this is what an unmedicated omega heat usually looks like in Auradon. 

Evie is too much of a lady to roll her eyes at Mal, but she shoots her packmate a look anyway as she leans over to shake Carlos’ shoulder. “There’s an easy way to find out, Mal,” she whispers. Somewhere in the pile, one of the boys twitches, but neither of them seem to be awake yet, so she shakes them again. “Baby? We need you to wake up now. Come on.” 

Carlos pokes his head up first. His hair is sticking up around his head like a dandelion, or like a little black and white lion’s mane. It’s kind of adorable. “Wha?” 

He sounds half asleep still, so Evie grabs the water bottle that’s on the side of the nest and holds it out for him to drink. “Water. Here you go, baby.” 

He takes the bottle. It’s one of the fancy ones with a flippy straw top that they have here, and he stares at it for a second, uncomprehending. “Was’sit?” 

Evie pats his hand. He’s kind of squinting against the light, like his eyes haven’t adjusted yet, so maybe that’s why he’s not taking the drink from her. “Water. Just water, okay?” 

He squints at it again, distrustfully, but sticks the top in his mouth anyway.  _ Gods, _ Mal thinks. How have they kept him alive for this long? He’s all soft and sweet like this, sure, but he’s also a paranoid little bastard sometimes. 

Carlos takes a few sips, then blinks, waking up for real. “What’re we talking about?” 

“Mal wants to know if some of us can leave.” Evie tells him. “Not all of us, we wouldn’t leave you alone like that, just one or two of us, in shifts.” 

He goes quiet, blinking against the light again. His eyes are still huge, his pupils, weirdly, still fully dilated even with both the lamps blazing. Fascinating, Evie thinks. 

Carlos scrunches his face up, fighting the light. He rubs his eyes, and then, apparently giving up, puts a hand over his face before slowly answering, “Uhh, I think so. Yeah,” he shrugs. “If one of you stays, I should be good to go.” 

Mal lets out a breath. She’s still standing in front of the door, but a little bit of the tension drops out of her shoulders at his words. “Okay. Okay!” She claps her hands together, softly. “We’re doing that, then” 

Evie slides down onto the floor to give her boys a little squeeze. She lands on what might be part of Jay, based on the muffled yell she gets in response, but her heels are already off for the night, so really, he shouldn’t be acting like such a baby about it. A gentle stepping-on between friends never hurt anyone. Besides, they just look so soft and sleepy, her little pack. Carlos is still wrapped in the blanket that usually lives on Evie’s bed, and he’s wearing what looks like one of Mal’s shirts, based on the color scheme, and Evie just has to wrap her arms around him. “Are you sure?” she asks. 

Carlos nods, resting his head against Evie’s shoulder. “S’long as things don’t get worse. I should be okay.” 

Mal frowns. “You’re absolutely sure.” she says. “Like, completely sure.” 

“Sure’s hell’s hot, Mal.” 

Mal looks-- not quite angry, but maybe getting there. Protective, or territorial, kind of like the face she’d make back on the Isle before she left the hideout and came back with someone else’s blood on her boots. “We’re using the passcode again.” she tells them, “And the door alarm. And we’re coming back here to eat.” 

“Sure.” Carlos yawns. “Can I go back to sleep?” 

Evie pushes him back down into the pile of blankets and barely-awake boy. He goes, all soft and compliant like he never gets outside of these moments. “Yeah, you can sleep, baby. Go cuddle up with your boy.” 

++++

Sunday, 11:59 pm. 

“You’re still worried about him?” 

Mal can’t stop pacing. It feels like all of her muscles are wound so tightly that they’ll break if she doesn’t move, doesn’t do something to release the coiled energy

“Of course I’m worried,” she snaps, tossing her hair back. She wants to patrol, damnit. Wants to move and bite and  _ break.  _ “It’s a breakthrough heat, Eves. It’s not supposed to happen.” 

Evie shakes her head. “Sometimes suppressants fail, Mal. I might have got the dosage wrong, or maybe they were a bad batch, or it’s just a stress response. We’ve had a bad batch before, and he’s been okay.” 

Mal throws up her hands. “Not like this! Not in-- in enemy territory! We’re surrounded by hundreds of horny teenagers who have probably never seen a real heat in their lives, E. What do you think they’d do if they got their filthy little do-gooder hands on him?” 

“It’s not going to happen, M. He’s got us here, and we’ve got each other. You could take on ten of these Auradon brats with your hands behind your back, you know you can.” 

Mal fists her hands in her hair. It doesn’t exactly help, but it’s better than doing nothing. “I know,” she whispers. 

Evie is watching her. “It’s hard,” she says. “I get it.” 

Mal wants to cry. “It’s so hard, Evie. I don’t know how they all live like this.” 

“Come here, M,” Evie says, softly. She opens her arms. Mal, drawn like a magnet, pulls herself away from the outside world. “I have to--” She chokes. 

Evie holds her. They fit together just like always, heads and hearts and hips together. Like a full-body homecoming. “You don’t have to patrol,” Evie says softly. “We’re safe in here. All of us.” 

Mal’s body is telling her to get up and protect her family, even though all her brain wants to do is shut off and cuddle with Evie for a while. “I want to keep you safe.” she whispers. 

“Keep me safe by taking care of yourself, Mal. You need to sleep too.” 

“I want someone to stay by the door, just in case something happens.” 

Evie strokes her perfect fingers through Mal’s hair. She repeats the motion once, twice, three times before she pauses to scratch a little circle on Mal’s scalp. Mal shivers, remembering what those perfect nails looked like holding her hand, what they could look like rubbing gentle circles on some other parts of her body. Evie lifts her hand and starts stroking Mal’s hair again. “So wake up Jay,” she says. “He’s been sleeping with C for long enough. He can take a turn standing guard so you can rest, and we’ll figure out the rest of it in the morning.” 

Mal doesn’t want to give herself away with the burr in her voice. She swallows, waiting for it to clear. As always, Evie waits for her. “Will you sleep with me?” Mal asks. 

Evie’s hands still. “Of course. When do I not?” 

“Thank you, Eves.” Mal breathes. It’s going to be okay. Her pack is safe, they’re together, it’s going to be fine. She’s allowed to trade off patrolling their perimeter. 

Evie’s hands start moving in her hair again. “Of course.” She says. “Do you want me to wake up Jay while you get ready for bed?” 

“Would you do that for me?” 

Evie presses her lips against the crown of Mal’s head. “Anything, M, you know that.” she says. 

Mal turns her face up so that she can give her girl a proper goodnight kiss. “I don’t deserve you.” she whispers. 

“You do.” 

++++

Monday, 4:02 am. 

“Evie. Eves. Wake up.” 

Evie swats Mal’s grabbing hand away. Fuck, it’s too early for this. Sleeping time. Without opening her eyes, Evie growls. “What?” 

Mal sounds way too enthusiastic for such a terrible hour. “Do you think we could poison breakfast? Make it look like food poisoning?” 

Ugh. Evie is never telling Mal that she needs to get a second opinion on her plans before she starts causing chaos  _ ever  _ again. “Why?” 

“If enough people get sick, we have a ready-made excuse to stay in. And,” Mal is bouncing. Literally, it is the middle of the fucking night and she’s bouncing on the bed while holding on to Evie’s body. “it would be fun.” 

Evie tries to wave a hand, but Mal is still holding on to her, so it doesn’t really work to get her to go away. Pity. It’s too early to be awake. 

“S’too early,” Evie tells her, trying to get the words out through the filter of her tired brain. “Not enough -- herbs. Stuff.” she yawns, hugely, trying to articulate why, exactly, this feels like a terrible idea. Oh, right. The cooks hate them. “Can’t get into the kitchen during breakfast rush.” 

Mal, apparently, has been thinking this plan through. She shakes Evie again when her eyes start to slide closed, and actually shoves a bit of blanket off of her shoulder. It’s not quite up to her usual standard of ripping the blankets off of Evie’s bed and shoving her icy feet between her legs, but it’s more than she would usually do in such a  _ hormonally charged  _ situation. “We could put it on the trays as they come out. Send Jay. He’s there early when there’s morning practice.” 

Ugh. That almost makes sense, damnit. Evie sits up, yawning again. She is a princess, and waking up this early has to be against some kind of international code for royalty. “You couldn’t have thought of this before I went to bed? Mal, it’s stupid early.” 

Mal grins. Her teeth flash in the dark predawn light. “Four am. What do you need?” 

“Agh. Ah. I have some buttonbush? Jimsonweed?” Evie wracks her brain, which is still moving slower than usual, what with being woken up in the middle of the fucking night and all “Um, maybe philodendron? I don’t know if I have enough, Mal. We could get one tray, maybe, but I can’t guarantee that anyone is going to get enough of a dose to do anything.” 

“Damnit.” Mal sounds pissed. Okay, think, Evie. 

“We could try poisoning individual plates? Philodendron is good, if I can control the dose.” 

Evie’s beautiful, adorable, annoyingly-perky-for-this-hour-of-the-morning girlfriend is up and pacing again. “How would we manage that? Run around greeting all of our oh-so-many  _ friends, _ ” Mal snorts, tossing her head derisively, “sprinkling just the right dose into each plate along the way?” 

“We could try bribing the kitchen staff?” 

“Forget it.” Mal moved towards the trunk at the end of the bed, where she’s been keeping the spellbook while she’s awake. “I’m going to curse them.” 

“Does your mother’s spellbook have something to make a hundred people sick?” 

“Forget a hundred, we only need a handful. Who would do well? Your leering boytoy?” 

Evie can’t help herself. She lets out a little squeal at the idea of making Chad Charming spend the day with his head in a toilet. That self-righteous asshole has had it coming for years, if what she’s been hearing around the girl’s dorm is anything to go by. “Oh, please can we poison Chad? Pretty please?” 

Mal grins at her. Score. “We sure can. I’ll head down to the kitchen early, put a spell on one of the dishes, and we’ll be good to go.” 

Evie has to kiss her. She’s contractually obligated, as Mal’s girlfriend, to provide her with all the kisses she wants in exchange for the opportunity to make one more entitled Auradonian boy regret his entire life. 

“I love,” She cradles Mal’s face, “your,” she kisses her nose, her cheeks. “wicked brain.” 

++++

Monday, 7:35 am.

Mal is pretty fucking proud of herself for carrying four plates of food up the fifty-fucking-million flights of steps between the dining hall and her and Evie’s room. She hasn’t dropped any of them, and she’s even wearing the new boots she bought with Evie a few weeks ago which apparently ‘blend in better” and “don’t smell like you’ve dropped them into the ocean” or “dipped them in  _ blood,  _ seriously, this had better not be  _ your blood, babe! _ ”

The new boots might blend in better with the Auradon princess crowd, but Mal still misses her soft-soled old pair, and after what she’s been through this morning in the kitchen, she is never underestimating Evie’s ability to sneak around in high heels ever again. Even with the shoe-related mishap, Mal is still super proud of herself. She’s like, being a good provider, or some housewife-y shit like that. Four plates, fuck yeah. 

Mal bangs on the door with the stupidly loud heel of her new shoes. At least the hard soles are good for  _ something. _ Two kicks, pause, three quick kicks. Pause, repeat. 

The lock clicks open. Mal kicks her way inside, holding tight to her plates as she does so. Bow down to the food provider, fuckers. “Your provider is here!” she calls out. “Bow before my wrath or I’ll keep your bacon for myself!”

Evie pushes past her to lock the door again, kissing her cheek as she moves. “Welcome back, babe,” she murmurs. Mal wants to kiss her back, but food has to take priority over things like girlfriends, and nobody can say that Mal Bertha isn’t focused on the right things in life. 

Well. Usually focused on the important things. Mal stops in the doorway, just in front of the hastily re-locked door, taking in the chaos that seems to have overtaken her room in the time it took her to get down to the kitchen and back. “What the fuck happend here?” 

Evie tries for a smile. It looks strained. “Emergency renovations?”

Mal snorts. Renovation feels like an understatement for the mess that’s greeting her. Every single closet in the room is hanging open, some of them by a single hinge. The bathroom door is open, and there’s some kind of makeshift barricade next to the main door, made of what looks like her dresser with the drawers taken out. There’s a blanket thrown over each of the windows, and the window seat has been opened up to reveal the extra linens stored inside, which have been pulled out of their neat stacks and dropped somewhere around the bathroom door. It looks like a hurricane has been through the room, a single-minded kind of little hurricane hell-bent on creating as many potential hiding places and sound-dampening measures as possible in less than half an hour. “Where are the boys?” 

A hand pokes up from the side of Mal’s bed, where it’s been pushed not-quite-flush with the wall. “We’re here!” 

Mal stifles a laugh. Only her pack. “Gods. Wow. This is…” 

Evie stomps a heel on Mal’s foot. Ouch. “Good, right?” She sounds a little bit desperate. “It looks great.” 

Another glance over at the bed shows that the boys are still hidden. Good. Mal rolls her eyes at Evie and shoves two of the plates from the dining hall into her arms. “It looks perfect. Very safe. Cozy.” 

A tousled head pokes out from the side of the bed. “Food? Breakfast?” 

Mal laughs. “Breakfast now, plotting after.” 

++++

Monday, 7:40 am. 

Nestled on, in, and under her bed, Mal’s pack makes their game plan for the day. 

Well. Half of them are in the bed, and half of them are practically underneath it, but it’s close enough for smoke bombs and shitbuckets. 

They decided last night that before anyone is allowed to leave the room, they have to take a shower, or at the very least, in case of emergency, rinse their neck and wrists before they go dragging heat scent everywhere. It’s a solid plan, but oh, is it hard to resist the temptation. Carlos doesn’t even _ like _ sex, they had that conversation ages ago, and heats don’t necessarily have to be that way, even for people who do. Mal’s heard it from her mother enough times, the lecture that heat isn’t actually a body begging to be fucked, it’s a body asking for comfort, and closeness, and security, and it’s alphas and men who have turned a thing of beauty into something to be desired, something to be  _ taken,  _ and Mal knows that her mother has her own issues with human sexuality, but oh, it still hurts to remember. 

It hurts a little more when Mal looks down at her boys. They’re so pretty, both of them, sprawled out together in the hidden space that her clever little omega has built for them. Mal’s mouth is watering just looking at them. Mal still wants to bite, to claim, to mark these pretty boys as  _ hers,  _ hers and theirs and nobody else’s, but she knows that anything beyond a friendly little claiming nip wouldn’t be welcome.

No, Mal. Bad alpha. No biting the kids while you’re on the first shift going out. Besides, Mal has her own warm body to cling to, next to her on the bed. Evie is already dressed for the day, looking pretty as a painting that Mal would just  _ love  _ to ruin. She can bite her girlfriend all she wants, and that has to be enough for right now. Usually, she would be allowed to bite Jay as well, but he’s still all sleepy and heat-stupid, and even though he smells amazing, if Mal gets her face up in his soft biteable bits right now, she knows that she won’t want to stop, and then she’ll have to shower again before she goes to class, and it’s just not worth the relief it would bring right now. 

The boys are sitting pressed together hip-to-hip in a nest of blankets that is, apparently, just the right size for two skinny Isle boys, no girls allowed. Mal is pretty sure that the blankets piled down by their feet say otherwise, but they went over the basics of the plan last night, so maybe it’s easier to just remove the temptation to scent-mark her and Evie by not letting them in the nest in the first place. 

On the floor, Jay seems to be trying to win a speed-eating contest against himself. Carlos, in contrast to his usual self, is picking at the food Mal brought up for him. Heat makes him feel physically sick, he’s said in the past, so that’s probably fine. They’ll keep an eye on him anyway. 

Jay catches her looking at them. He raises his eyebrows at her, licks something off his hand. “What’s the plan, fearless leader?” he asks. He’s teasing, Mal knows he’s teasing her, but it feels kind of nice. The heat-scent in the room must be making her mellow. Swallowing her own mouthful, she lays out the plan again for her pack. 

“Split up. We’re going out in pairs. Me and Eves,” she nods at Evie, “first shift, and then we’ll come back at lunch and switch out for a class. Eves has to go to chemistry after lunch, but I’ll be able to stay behind then, so you” she points her fork at Jay, “can get to class, and then Evie will come back here so I can get to magic lessons and Jay can be at practice.” She turns to Carlos, who seems to have given up on his plate in favor of watching her lay out their game plan. That’s fine. He was pretty heat-addled last night, so it’s good that he’s devoting his full attention to her now. “Does that sound good, C?” she asks. 

He flashes a thumbs-up. “Fine. Yeah.” 

“We all come here after dinner and regroup. Evie made a new batch of herbs last night, so we need you to take them, okay? Whoever’s here will remind you.” Both of the boys make a face. The herbal concoctions that Evie makes taste, almost universally, disgusting, but they’re a necessary precaution. Besides, nobody has thrown one up since the mushroom incident when they were twelve, so it’s probably fine and they’re just being babies about it. “If anyone asks where we are, lie. We’re all in class, obviously. Not you, C. You’re sick.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.” 

“If anyone asks, we’ll tell them that you’ve got food poisoning.” Mal smirks. “I hear it’s going around today.” 

On the bed beside her, Evie stifles a laugh. “I heard that too!” Before Mal had even left the dining hall, four of the boys on the exy team had already taken food from the tray, including one of the princes she’s seen looking at Evie and she had seen another pack of sweaty boys, including Chad, coming in as she was leaving. It’s enough to bring joy to anyone’s black heart. Mal goes on. “You’re puking, you’re miserable, you  _ don’t  _ need to go to the nurse. If anyone knocks, you hide in the bathroom. Whoever is with you can run interference.” 

“Got it.” 

“You two need to move back to your own room during morning classes. If they catch on, you run. The stacks are always locked and empty, and we can play it up that we’re the scared little Isle kids running on instinct until we can figure out somewhere else to go.” 

He nods, a barely-there twitch of his head. “Got it.” 

“I want you to make a go-bag. Food, meds, whatever things you want to nest with if we have to run. Make it something you can carry.” 

Carlos scrunches his face up before he answers, closing his eyes for a second. The room is still dark, especially with the blanket over the window. He shouldn’t be having photophobia issues again, especially not after the wave they got through last night. Mal should remind Evie to make sure there’s enough herbs to last the day before they leave. “How far are we running?” he asks. 

“I don’t know. It’s Auradon, so we can always take what we need if you forget anything.” 

“Okay.” 

Evie frowns down at the boys. “Are you okay, C? You’re shivering.” She makes a move to slide down off the bed, into the nest where the boys are sitting, but Mal pulls her back with a firm hand on her jacket and a hissed reminder to keep her scent  _ clean, damnit.  _

In the nest, Carlos is curled over on himself. He’s wearing layers, stuff from all of them, but it must not be enough. He’s still shivering, and now that she’s looking for it, Mal can see it getting worse. “Just gotta ride it out,” he whispers. “M’good.” 

On the floor with him, Jay sets down his plate to wrap an arm around their boy. “Come here, idiot,” he says, pulling Carlos up and onto his lap. “We got you.” 

++++

Monday, evening. 

  
  


Fairy Godmother is gathering sparks of magic around herself. Mal can see it happening, can feel it in the air like static, like an ozone covering, like the feeling down your spine on a bad day when the world is getting ready to come back and knock you down again but good. 

Mal is not going to be taken down by some two-bit do-gooder in a bow. Before she can get hit by the spell Fairy Godmother is gathering, she lashes out. 

She doesn’t know exactly what spell she’s trying to fling at Fairy Godmother. Something that will stop her. Something that will take her down, tie her hands and chain her magic up like Mal’s has been chained for her entire life. Something that will hurt her, will make her want to stay far, far away from Mal and her pack, and keep her off her feet for long enough that Mal can get  _ away.  _ That’s what Mal is trying to fling. 

That, unfortunately for Mal, is not what happens. 

The ball of green light gathers around her hands. Inside it are the shapes of thorns, and flames, and, oddly, what might be flying fish. 

Mal shoves the ball outwards, away from herself, away from her family’s things, away from the bookshelf of treasures that’s behind her, and towards her teacher. 

The light-- 

The light--

Mal screams. 

Outside the door, the prince of Auradon hears her. He knows that he’s been told to stay outside, but he is afraid for the girl who he thinks might, someday soon, be considered a friend of his, and he decides that now is the time to throw caution to the wind and open the door. 

Ben rushes inside with a crash of wood. “Mal!” he yells. 

Mal turns towards him. Fairy Godmother is trying to gesture him back out of the room, but the only thing he can see is the little girl in front of him who looks like she is filled with that awful, sick green glow. Ben, kind down to his core, to his bones, to the deepest parts of his soul, stays where he is. 

The wicked fairy in front of him screams. She lets loose her fire, and for a second time, the spell refuses to move. 

“Get OUT!” The girl inside of it screams, and this time, Ben listens. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter count went up! So instead of one very long chapter coming up next, it'll be two regular-length chapters! Thanks to my sister for that pacing edit.
> 
> Enjoy :))

“What happened?” 

Fairy Godmother is gently running her hands over Mal’s arms, soothing whatever is happening with the light dancing along her body. The sparks are a sickly shade of green, not the soft blue of Fairy Godmother’s magic. They look like the kind that comes from wet newspapers, when the ink is so heavy that it turns the flames damp and colorful and refuses to catch anything else, leading to a soggy fire and upset children who are not impressed by judicious use of lighter fluid. “She’s overtaxed and exhausted, poor thing.” she answers, distracted. 

Ben glances around the room. It’s a little messy, but not tragically so. There’s some clothes and blankets on the floor, but aside from that, and the one dresser that’s been flipped on its side, the room looks...normal. No sign of three wayward teenagers, or the unrestrained sex den that Ben has been assured by all of the alpha boys comes part and parcel with an unrestricted heat. 

“Are the others not here?” he asks. It feels wrong, being in the boy’s room without them here to yell at him when he gets too close to something.. The Isle kids are usually such a tight-knit group, protective of their own space and their things in a way that Ben  _ knows  _ isn’t normal. It feels like a violation, standing in one of their rooms without anyone there to snarl at him when he gets too close to finding one of their soft spots. It feels even worse to see Mal by herself, without her crew of gangly teenage backup standing right behind her. Like she’s missing a limb, rather than her friends. 

Fairy Godmother stands up, brushing her hands off on her sensible baby-blue skirt. “Mm. It would certainly appear not.” she says. 

The last of the sparks die out. 

Mal isn’t lighting up anymore. In fact, Mal isn’t doing much of anything. Her head is resting at what looks like an uncomfortable angle on the wooden floor, and she’s unnaturally still. She’s breathing, shallowly and evenly, but aside from that, she’s not twitching or anything. There’s none of the rapid, freaky eye movements that Ben remembers from watching his roommates sleep as a child, and none of the usual soft movements of a natural sleep. It’s unsettling. 

Ben takes a step back. Mal shouldn’t look like this. She’s always larger than life, her personality making up for her short (tiny, fairy-like) stature. Something, beyond just the obvious, is very wrong. 

“Fairy Godmother?” 

The headmistress is tapping rapidly at her phone. “Yes, Ben?” she says, and then immediately lifts a finger to silence him. “Infirmary for Miss Mal, I think.” she says into the phone, “Room 206. She’ll need transport.” 

Ben waits patiently. Once Fairy Godmother seems satisfied that the school nurse’s team is adequately prepared to come and retrieve Mal’s unconscious body, she tucks the phone away and turns back to her student. “What were you saying, Ben dear?” she asks. 

Ben takes a breath. There are a lot of things he wants to say.  _ Why did they run?  _ is a strong contender.  _ Why didn’t you stop her?  _ is another.  _ Where did they go, are they alright, what’s going on??  _ are also possibilities. 

Ben is sometimes accused of being slow, in his council meetings. He isn’t the first to speak up whenever a new idea is proposed. He prefers to step back, and let others talk themselves out before stepping in. He likes taking the time to consider the effects of his words, and who they might hurt despite his best intentions. When Ben is left to his own devices, he’ll spend classes sitting on one side of the room, watching and listening. He’s trying to be a good king. He wants to be known as someone who considers all the possibilities, rather than jumping rashly into the first one that he sees. 

Ben takes a breath, and makes a decision. “Where are the others?” he asks. “And how are we going to find them?” 

Fairy Godmother looks away. She seems-- not unsettled. Sad, maybe. Disappointed. “That is the question, isn’t it.” 

+++

  
  


Going to the docks had been a stupid idea. 

Collassally fucking stupid. Which, hey, is also a pretty fair description of the pirate currently holding Mal. _ Hades’ balls,  _ she wonders,  _ are they trying to rip her fucking arms off??? _

Lifting those barrels of whatever the hell the junior pirates keep moving around on their stupid ship might have made Mal’s guy strong, but fuck, she’s no good to anyone if her shoulders pop out of place and she can’t fight back for a month. Not to mention what Mal’s  _ mother _ might do to anyone who dares to damage her daughter more than her royal horniess is willing to do herself. 

Actually. 

Mal thrashes as wildly as she can with both her arms twisted up and back behind her body. She heaves in a breath, and screams as loudly as she can. There might not be much joy in her life, but oh, she knows a good time when she sees one coming, and watching her mother destroy  _ her  _ archenemies, the pirates that she’s been fighting since…. since  _ childhood, _ practically, is not going to be nearly as fun as destroying them herself. 

“Get OFF ME!!” Mal yells, putting her whole body into it. In front of her, the leader of the pirates watches. 

Uma giggles, and her whole body shakes with joy, like she’s going to start dancing. “Ooh, is someone mad? Did we touch your precious little princess?” 

Mal kicks the pirate behind her in the shins. He grunts, but doesn't actually let her go. “Get off!” she shouts. “I’m going to  _ kill you _ , Uma! I’’ll kick you off your own ship and string you up with your stupid crew’s guts!” 

Uma laughs. “Oh, and she’s got the threats!” She leans close to Mal, close enough to run a finger over her neck, to pull her chin up so they’re eye-to-eye. “So sorry, babygirl. I’ve got a team that cares about me now. Which is more than you ever did.” 

Mal narrows her eyes. “You know that’s a lie.” 

Uma pulls back. “Do I?” She spins, facing the other side of the alley now, where another one of her stupid giant enforecers is holding Evie by the arm. “How does your new little princess feel? Does she take care of you, princess?” 

Mal bares her teeth. “Back off, shrimpy.” 

Uma laughs again. “Oh, that’s how this is gonna be?” She waves a hand, but she’s still not looking at Mal, and that almost hurts more than the pirate holding her arms behind her back. “Fine.” She leans closer to Evie. “I don’t care what shape you’re in for her perfect purpleness.” 

Uma’s hand moves, but before she can make contact, Evie gasps. “Ouch!” 

The pirate holding Evie grunts as his knee buckles under Uma’s boot. It’s a quiet noise, barely there, but Mal can tell that it hurts. Uma is a mean little witch when she’s mad, and she’s always mad when someone else gets to her targets before she does. 

Sure enough, Uma pulls the pirate down by his ear to hiss her next order at him. “Let her down, let her down.” she whispers, low and smooth. “I wanna do the damage this time.” 

She turns, but she’s still looking over Mal’s head, instead of directly at her. “How’s that sound, Mal?” she asks. “Your old flame roughing up your new pretty little plaything? I didn’t think you’d go for a beta, but I guess times are a-changin, hmm?” 

“Let her go, Uma. We don’t have to fight about this.” 

“Oh, don’t we? I thought you liked fighting for your little packmates while you’re all keyed up, You certainly liked fighting for me.” 

Mal spits. “I’m only sorry that we got caught.” 

“Hah! Of course you are.” Uma comes closer. Her braids brush over Mal’s arms when she leans over, but with Mal’s arms twisted up behind her back, there’s nothing she can do about it. Uma is keeping all of her soft spots just out of Mal’s reach. “I want your stash.” she says. 

Mal recoils. “No way.” 

Uma shakes her head, and Mal can smell the faint scent of fry oil clinging to her hair, her clothes. It’s almost enough to cover up any other smells she might have on her. “Your stash, or your princess ain’t gonna be so pretty anymore. How’s that sound, Mal? Should we take apart that pretty face?” 

Mal thrashes against her pirate’s hold. “I’m going to kill you!” she screams, throwing her elbow back into her pirate’s gut. 

He doesn’t even twitch. Uma giggles. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you.” she sing-songs. “Someone might get angry.” 

Mal can feel the second where Evie breathes in, before the pirate holding her up does something with his knife near her throat, and she lets out a squeaking gasp of breath. “Mal!” Evie gasps. 

Mal is going to bite their stupid fishy throats out with her bare teeth before she gives up her pack’s safety to these blockheads. They won’t hurt Evie without a reason, not when the drama of a real fight waiting is so much sweeter, and only just out of their reach. “Fight for it.” she spits out. “The docks, tomorrow night.” 

Uma giggles again. “Oh, does the little alpha want to challenge me?” she laughs. Fucking unhinged, that girl. “I’ll bite. Bring your own crew?” 

“This is between us.” 

Uma throws her head back and laughs for real. “Hah! No it’s not, princess.” She steps out of Mal’s space, spinning around to address her crew. “You might think you’re one of the only little packs on the isle, but you’re not the only leader who cares about her people!” 

The pirates cheer. The fucking creepy ones, the adults who hang around with Uma’s teenager gang, leer. They smell overpoweringly like fish, to the extent that Mal can’t smell anything else on them, not pheromones or sweat or the blood she’s going to draw if this doesn’t end soon. 

“I need that stash.” Uma says quietly, spinning back around to face Mal. “Bring your crew, brat, or I’ll bring mine anyways.” 

“Fine.” 

+++

Mal wakes up with her head feeling like it’s going to split open. Literally, like a rotten melon in the poorly conceived melon launcher they’d had back home. Knowing Isle food, the launcher probably would have worked too, if they had just had some better ammunition for it.

Her head is going to split in half before she even gets halfway through cocking her launch mechanism, and she’s never going to land where she’s supposed to. 

The second time Mal wakes up, her head still hurts. 

The third time Mal wakes up--

No. 

The  _ second _ time that Mal wakes up, her head still hurts. It’s still the second time, she’s sure of it. She’s not quite as familiar with concussions as some of her crew, but she’s had a fair few head injuries in her time, and this feels more like a hangover than anything else. Her first instinct is to open her eyes, but she remembers from past experience how much sunlight hurts a fresh hangover, and keeps her eyes shut. Breathe, Mal. Eyes closed, she takes stock. Her stomach doesn’t hurt, she doesn’t have to piss, and despite the ache in her head, she doesn’t feel like there’s a development team taking up residence in her skull, so that’s a major plus over the last time she woke up feeling this shit.

She’s-- fuck. Oh, gods-damned shitting fuck. She’s been reading about this shit, hasn’t she. It’s magic whiplash, the kind of thing that only happens to stupid people who don’t know how to control their powers. Like, say, children who’ve been separated from their powers since birth, who try to do incredibly stupid things anyway, like knock out two taller, stronger, fully-grown Auradonian adults when they’re a scrawny Isle teenager. And of course, instead of getting it right on the first try, like someone who’s had actual fucking magical  _ training  _ would, she sent the power rocketing back into her own body. 

Ouch. Well. At least she’s learned not to try that again. 

From somewhere beside her bed, Ben is talking. “Mal?” He sounds hesitant. “You’re awake now, right?”

Mal groans. “Nearly.” 

There’s a shuffling noise, like Ben is moving around. “You’re in the infirmary. We don’t know where the other VKs are. Fairy Godmother had you moved here after you passed out.”

Mal tries opening her eyes. It hurts. Shocker. “Ow.” she says. “You really don’t know where they are?” 

Ben shakes his head. No. Perfect. “We can’t find them. Fairy Godmother doesn’t want to cause a panic by calling for an official search yet, so it’s just been the teachers looking for them,” 

Huh. That’s unexpected. Mal would have guessed that Fairy Godmother would be all about rallying the entire school to chase down her runaway VKs. “How long was I out for?” 

Ben hums. “About forty minutes.?” he guesses “Fairy Godmother wanted you to sleep more, but I told her not to sedate you.” 

Mal sits up slowly. Fuck, does her head hurt. “Thanks.” 

Ben tries to smile at her, but apparently she’s testing even his princely patience today. “No problem. She wants to talk to you.” 

Mal makes a show of glancing around. Like she wouldn’t notice her main obstacle lying in wait for her. “Is she here?” 

“She’s in the office,” Ben says. “I’m supposed to walk you down once you’re ready.” 

Mal isn’t feeling super great about sitting up yet, but she’s game to give standing a try just in case it’s better. She swings her legs over the side of the bed. It’s going okay, until they touch the floor, which is uncomfortably cold even before the sensation sends something like an echo up through her legs and into her aching head. “Ow.” 

Ben has a hand out to steady her before she can even make another attempt at getting her legs under herself. She must be making a face or something, because Ben explains. “You hit your head pretty hard when you passed out, I guess.” He laughs, more of a huff of breath than anything. “I was waiting outside, and then you yelled, and the next thing I saw you were on the ground.” 

“I tried to spell you.” 

“You did.” He offers her an arm, which Mal takes. “But I get it! Fairy Godmother and I had a crash course in pack dynamics while you were sleeping. They’re your pack, right?” 

He looks-- not longing. Desiring? He wants her, but maybe-- no. Ben is an obstacle right now, not something to consider. Maybe later, once they’ve completed their mission, Mal can bargain with Maleficent for his safety. Sometimes when she’s in a good mood, she’ll let Mal have things just because they’re beautiful. Maleficent considers herself a lover of beauty, and Ben is a beautiful thing. His royal blood means that he could make a useful pawn for when they decide that Auradon isn’t enough and start their expansion into the surrounding countries. Arendelle might not care about royal blood, but others could, and Ben may yet be a valuable tool in swaying others to their side. 

“I want to talk to Fairy Godmother now.” Mal declares, now that she’s upright. Upright is enough like functional, and she never got anything done back home by waiting until she  _ felt  _ better to do it. 

Ben bobs a nod, which is only slightly impeded by the fact that Mal is still clinging to his arm for support. “I’ll walk you down to her office.” 

+++

The docks are always wet with something. Usually it’s just water, splashed up by the idiots brave enough to try fishing, or the barge workers, who are stupid enough to think that their enchanted pieces will protect them from the sharks, as well as get them through the magic barrier. 

Tonight, the docks are wet with blood. It’s hard to see in the faint moonlight, what with the general smog and cloud cover of the island, but it’s there. Sticky, now, drying in rusty smears across the boards. Tomorrow, someone might see the stains and care enough to scour the worst of them off, but more likely they’ll just fade into obscurity, or turn into another landmark. Turn left at the bloodstains. Don’t cross Mal’s crew, or they’ll shank you like they did the Hook boy when he tried to get the jump on them. 

Evie isn’t sorry about it, either. That’s what he gets for trying to jump on them before they got sights on Uma, the slippery bastard. He should know better than to try and sneak up on her. She might look cute, but that doesn’t mean she’s not as Isle as the rest of them, and she’d got him pretty good before the pirates realized that their attempt at cutting Mal’s crew apart before the docks had failed, and their leader’s boy needed backup. 

Mal had gone a little bit overboard after that. She’s never a nice girl, but she gets defensive when her pack is threatened, or when she’s going up against Uma, and the combination… 

Well. It’s a good thing that Evie closes her doors after a certain hour, because she’s not sure she could patch up all the pirates that need it after tonight. She’s got her own crew to look out for, and last she saw, at least one of them was also contributing a significant amount of blood to the general ambiance of the docks, so she’s got her own business to take care of. The pirates have an entire ship full of supplies anyway, and after the events of the night they’re going to drop some of their drugs off with Uma’s lookout in the morning, so the pirates can deal with themselves for a night. Evie’s Herbalism is closed, no idiot pirates allowed. 

In front of her in the dark, someone bites back a gasp. Mal, probably. She got the worst of it, from what Evie could see from her vantage point above the main fighting. Evie knows how to use a knife just as well as anyone else, but after the conflict earlier, they’d decided that it was smarter to keep Evie out of the way and well-armed, so that she wouldn’t be grabbed as a bargaining chip again. It’s probably for the best that she’s uninjured, because it means she’s available to patch up her favorite idiots now that they’re done being stupid. 

Mal is in front. She’s favoring one leg, and Evie can’t see the blood on her dark pants, but she knows that Uma got a pretty good slash in before they got her sword out of the way, so that’s going to need to be dealt with. Mal’s good with pain for the most part, so for her to be making noise, it’s probably going to be pretty bad. The boys seem okay, mostly. They weren’t the focus of this fight, and aside from the pirates, Mal took the worst of it. Evie might have a few bruises on her neck that she’ll need to hide tomorrow, but she only got the chance to use a few of her knives before the pirates were turning tail back to their leader’s empty promises of a treaty. Evie likes a good fight as much as the next princess, but when Mal’s crew gets threatened, Mal gets  _ nasty,  _ and when someone like Uma tries to hold their safety over her head, they shouldn’t be surprised when Mal lashes back. 

Evie’s sure that a few pirates are going to slink up to her door in the morning, begging for her to patch them up and pretending like nothing happened. She’ll do it, because profit is profit, and Isle kids can’t be choosers, but she doesn’t have to like it. Maybe she’ll let Mal set up outside tomorrow, just to watch them flinch when they walk in. That could be fun, and with the pass already scheduled, they won’t think to try anything they can’t finish right then and there. Which won’t be anything. 

Point is, don’t fucking mess with Mal’s pack, and don’t hold their safety over her head, because when Mal gets mad, someone is gonna suffer, and it’s not going to be her. 

+++

Ben is the one to knock on the office door. He’s a little steadier on his feet than Mal is right now, and he’s the prince, the golden favorite, and Mal is pretty sure that’s not technically supposed to matter, even though they both know that it does. 

“Come in!” Fairy Godmother chirps from inside. 

Ben is the one to open the door, and to hold it open for Mal to enter, like she’s one of the fancy Auradonian ladies who he can help by doing such silly things like opening the door or pulling out her chair for her. 

Fairy Godmother is sitting at her desk. There’s some kind of text chat up on her screen, which she quickly closes down before turning to her students. “Hello Ben. Mal.” 

“Hi.” Ben answers. He’s quiet for a second, and before Mal can figure out what he’s waiting for, he ducks his head and takes a step back. “I’ll let you two talk on your own.” he finishes. 

Fairy Godmother waves her fingers at him. “Thank you, Ben!” she calls in her syrupy-sweet voice. The office door clicks shut, and Fairy Godmother’s voice changes, growing serious. “Miss Mal.” 

“What do you want?” 

Fairy Godmother blinks. “Excuse me?” 

“What do you want from me? Why am I here?” 

“As you may know, the other children from the Isle are currently missing.” She pauses, like maybe she’s waiting for Mal to jump in and explain everything. Tough luck, Mal thinks. The Auradon Prep kids might not know when to shut up and wait, but her crew has more experience dealing with shitty adults who are just waiting for you to trip up, and she can outlast any adult when it comes to keeping her mouth shut and waiting. 

Sure enough, when Mal doesn’t take the bait to jump in and start defending her crew, Fairy Godmother goes on. “As you may or may not know, the school grounds have a proximity alarm. It’s set up to send an alert whenever a student crosses the line outside of normal hours.” 

Yes, you hag, Mal thinks to herself. We disarmed it a month ago. Out loud, she schools her face into vague surprise. “A proximity alarm? Was it tripped?” 

“It was not. Which suggests that either someone has damaged the alarm system, or else…” Fairy Godmother trails off. It’s obvious what she’s suggesting, and equally obvious that she’s fishing for the answer because she doesn’t have a clue where the others are. 

Mal smiles sweetly. She’ll play along this time. “You think they’re still on the property?” 

“I know that wherever they are, you know about it.” 

“So?” 

Fairy Godmother levels a very disapproving, parental kind of look at Mal. “I need you to tell me where your friends are hiding.” 

Mal snorts. “No.” 

Fairy Godmother pulls a face like someone just slapped her with a dead fish. “Excuse me?” she says. “Did you say no?” 

“No.” Mal repeats, just as firmly as before. “I’m not telling you where they are.” 

Fairy Godmother sighs. “I understand that your past has been…” she pauses. “Bad,” she says finally, “in regards to your secondary dynamics. I want you to know, Mal, that here in Auradon we would never force an omega to do things she doesn’t want during a heat.” 

Cool. Great. Fairy Godmother is still assuming that she knows all about Mal’s pack. “That’s so great,” Mal says. “Good for you.” 

Fairy Godmother lays her hands on the desk between them. “If you tell us where your pack is, we can bring them somewhere safe. We have a panic room, in the school, that students use when they have first heats, or breakthrough heats. It’s not the first time that teenagers have responded poorly to hormone control, and it certainly won’t be the last. We know how to take care of children in your situation, if you’ll help us just a tiny, itsy little bit.” 

Fine, you old do-gooder, Mal thinks. If you won’t take the hint, I’ll say it out loud. “If they haven’t been found by now,” she says, enuncianting clearly, in case Fairy Godmother really is a stupid as she’s acting. “then they don’t want to be found.” 

“I am not suggesting that you, ah, snitch on your friends, Mal. I’m suggesting that you tell us where they are so that we can do our jobs, as teachers and adults at this school, to keep everyone safe.” 

Mal has to laugh. “I’m supposed to just trust you?” She asks, in between gasping laughs, which, okay, still send fresh waves of pain through her head. Mal is pretty sure it’s worth it, though. It’s not every day that she gets to laugh at Fairy Godmother in her own office. 

The old hag in question gives Mal a tiny smile. “Would a spell suffice? Under a truth spell, I can swear that I mean your pack no harm.” 

Mal shuts her mouth, but quick. Fuck, maybe laughing at her really was worth it. “Swear it.” 

Fairy Godmother lifts a hand, making a slight gesture towards herself. The motion sends sprinkles of blue light down over her head and shoulders, where they shiver downwards, eventually gathering around her throat. “By the power bestowed in me, the Fairy Godmother, sworn headmistress and protector of the realm of Auradon, I do so solemnly swear that I mean no harm to the missing children of the Isle of the Lost.” 

Mal shuts her mouth. Stupid of her, really, to think that Fairy Godmother wouldn’t rise to her challenge.. She should know better by now than to underestimate these do-gooders. “Wow.” she breathes “I didn’t think you’d really do it.” 

Fairy Godmother shoots her a small smile. The sparkles might have faded, but the power of her spell is still hanging in the air. It smells like burnt sugar. “We are honest, are we not? Time to uphold your end of the bargain, Miss Mal.” 

Mal stands, gathering up her skirt and her wits as she does so. Stupid, stupid, letting her guard down at all. “Fair enough.” She cocks her head. “Should I lead the way?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! If you made it to this point, know that I love and appreciate you!! 
> 
> Also, Uma is the love of my life and I'm really sad that this fic isn't the place for me to go into her role in this verse. This chapter was a Highkey Struggle in terms of pacing, and I accidently spent....a few days...writing what I eventually realized should be a separate fic entirely, so that'll be something I upload someday. Uma fic, I'm coming for you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter!! There was a lot of editing between my first draft of this chapter and the final draft that's going up today, but never fear, the jay/evie content that I've wanted to include since the beginning is finally here and would never be cut in the name of things like "flow" and "clarity". 
> 
> Be the trash you want to see in the world, y'all. Post that 10k chapter of self-indulgent ot4 nonsense that you've been sitting on for a month and sending in snippets to your friends who aren't deeply invested in Disney movies but love you anyway. Do it. It's 2020. What do we have to lose?

The stacks are dusty. Evie’s shoes are leaving scuff marks in the dust, so she pops them off, slinging the straps over her wrists. Getting inside was easy, of course. Nobody here seems to lock their doors with anything firmer than a simple padlock or passcode, and even with one of her boys not feeling his best, it wasn’t hard for them to pop the locks, slip inside, and lock the door back up behind them. 

Now for the really hard part. 

Barefoot, Evie spins around to look at her boys. They look, well, kind of rough. Which is totally fair, given the situation! Evie understands, really. Just because she can look good while making her way across campus in the dark, while there are still plenty of people around for her to avoid running into, and possibly people actively looking for them too, doesn’t mean that everyone can do the same thing and come out looking this good. 

Actually, if Evie is being completely fair, Jay still looks pretty hot. He’s sweating hard, but it’s actually a good look for him. The sweat makes him look appealingly athletic, like someone who would, well, run across campus in the dark to keep his gang safe. Now that they’re inside, he’s already got an arm back around Carlos, who doesn’t look quite as good. He’s kind of pale, almost clammy looking, and he’s sweating to the point that he looks slimy, even though, okay, this is bad, he’s shivering again. Evie shakes her head. Get them somewhere safe first, and then deal with the rest of it. Okay. 

She turns around again to begin leading them up the stairs. The stacks have a basement, she remembers from the library tours they had their first week, but if they go down they might not be able to get up again in a hurry, and at least if they head upstairs, they’ll always have the windows as a backup. Her boys follow, because of course they’ll follow her. She might be a beta, and a girl, but she’s also a princess, damnit, and a healer, and maybe she doesn’t have the magic or charisma that Mal does, but she can damn well get half her pack settled for the night. 

That’s the plan, at least. 

In reality, Evie makes it most of the way up a single staircase before everything goes to shit. 

+++

“I don’t know exactly where they are, but I know a couple places they might be,” Mal admits, once she’s got Fairy Godmother out in the main hallway. “I can check around.” 

Unfortunately, Fairy Godmother doesn’t seem to be quite as dumb as she looks. “You have a phone, dear.” She reminds Mal. “I suggest you start out by using it.” 

Right. Technology, a gift and a curse. Maleficent would approve. 

Mal smiles sweetly. “Forgot to charge it.” she lies. She did technically forget to charge her shiny new phone, it’s just that it happened three weeks ago, when she was first getting used to carrying an expensive piece of tech around with her every day, and not this morning. 

Fairy Godmother is undeterred. “I’m sure we can make a stop to charge it. It’ll be so much faster than running all across campus, won’t it?” 

Fuck. Caught out. “I can probably make one call before it dies,” Mal admits. 

“Go ahead, dear.” 

Mal pulls out the phone, a hunk of shiny purple plastic that probably cost more than her entire life was worth back on the Isle. Contacts, contacts. All she has to do is call, not get an answer. Of course, that means playing the guessing game of who is the least likely to answer their phone. 

Oh. Don’t be an idiot, Mal, she thinks to herself. There’s an obvious answer here. 

Decision made, Mal taps on the number in her phone. What Fairy Godmother doesn’t know can’t hurt her, especially if what she doesn’t know is still sitting in Mal’s bed. 

“Hey, Jay.” Mal coos. “Just calling to let you know that I’m bringing Fairy Godmother over with me. I’ll explain more when we meet up.” Pause, pause, and end call. Nobody’s going to hear an abandoned phone ringing, especially not when it’s been left in the girl’s isolated tower room since this morning. Mal spins back to face Fairy Godmother, who is starting to look a little bit impatient. Good. “He didn’t answer,” she explains, sweetly. 

Fairy Godmother inhales slowly. What’cha gonna do now, hag? Mal wonders. Smack a student who just got out of the infirmary ward? 

Disappointingly, she doesn’t do much of anything. After another deep breath, she just turns her stupid sweet little smile back on and keeps going. 

“Of course he didn’t.” she says. “Would you like to lead me to the most likely place?” 

Mal narrows her eyes. Maleficent might not have raised a good little fairy, but she did raise a cheat, and Mal can interpret something as vague as “most likely” to mean any number of things. As of a week ago, there’s a fair few places across a campus as big as Auradon Prep that are “the most likely” to contain her pack on a school night. 

“Sure.” she says, and turns on her heel towards the girl’s dorms, and the endless stairs. For a start. 

+++

  
  


Evie and her boys are nearly on the second floor of the stacks when things start to go downhill. 

So far, Evie hasn’t tripped over her own feet even once, which she feels pretty good about, and she’s pretty sure she remembers some study alcoves on the second floor that will serve well enough as a hideout space, and overall she’s feeling pretty confident about holding it together until Mal can meet up with them and take it from there. She’s feeling confident enough to swing her shoes a little bit, enjoying the feeling of her stocking feet on the library floor. 

Of course, because nothing can go right in their lives, this is when Carlos stops walking. 

Because they’re going single-file up the stairs, and Evie is in front, she doesn’t notice at first. She’s a few steps ahead of the boys by the time she registers that the little shuffle-trip they did a second ago has ended in silence, instead of their usual footsteps. 

Carlos is hunched over, both arms wrapped tight around his body. “Feel sick.” he mutters, when he notices her watching. 

Jay is already hovering close behind him, but Evie takes a step down too, so she can pet his shoulder. “Shh, baby.” she soothes. “We know. We’re going to find somewhere for you to settle, okay? We’ll find you somewhere safe.” 

Carlos shakes his head. He’s looking paler by the second. “No, like, I actually feel sick. Gonna puke.” 

Oh. Damnit. Evie shoves them both towards the door at the bottom of the stairs. “Go! Bathroom, go-go-go!” 

+++

Okay, so maybe Evie’s grand plans up to this point have ended them up in a bathroom. It’s fine. She’s just sitting here on the floor, next to a dirty urinal, listening to her omega and one of her alphas try to navigate the logistics of fitting two people in a toilet stall while one of them throws up. It’s fine. She’s doing great. 

There’s a kind of fleshy clunk from the stall. “Ow.” 

“Sorry, dude. Trying to hold your hair back.” 

More retching. Evie cringes. She’s been taking full advantage of the school’s access to new scientific journals, but the research on basic human biology is shockingly limited when it comes to managing cycle complications. Betas have some research published, but apparently all omegas are expected to start popping out babies as soon as they’re able to, and nobody has published anything on the effects of things like long-term suppressant use and cycle abnormalities. All the research ever seems to show is that having a baby will fix everything that could possibly go wrong with every single omega in the whole entire world, and a fat lot of good that does Evie as an answer. It’s not like she can just ask her mirror, or  _ gods forbid, _ her cell phone, what to do right now. Without research, she doesn't have the perspective to know exactly what level of shit they’re in right now, and it’s kind of stressing her out. 

In the stall, someone spits, and then there’s some more shuffling, and finally, Carlos’ voice. “Ugh.”

More shuffling. Evie can see Jay’s feet moving, bracing himself, and then a soft noise of effort. “Hup. Up you go.” The door swings open. “Wanna wash your face?” Jay asks, even as he’s guiding Carlos over to the sinks so he can rinse the worst of the last five minutes off. 

It’s a good call. Evie’s boys look  _ bad,  _ even taking into account that they’ve just been crammed in a toilet stall together. Clean water isn’t a miracle cure-all, but it’s still enough of a novelty to have it come out of a tap whenever they need it that they sometimes treat it as such.

Relatively clean and vomit-free, her boys slowly make their way across the bathroom floor to Evie. They’re leaning hard on each other, but when they get to where Evie’s sitting on the floor, Carlos does some kind of sad boneless motion and ends up on the floor next to her without any apparent effort on his part. Up close, even through the layer of stress and sweat-scent, he smells like heat. Combined with the big sad eyes he’s making at her, he looks  _ edible.  _

Evie reaches out for her omega, pulling him down to rest on her shoulder. There. She can keep him safe now. He should smell like her, and everyone should be able to tell. “You feel any better?” she asks, softly. 

He’s rubbing his face against her. Maybe it’s meant to be a nod? “I’m sorry.” he whispers. “Sorry, Eves.” 

She reaches up to pet his hair, as gentle as she can possibly be. “It’s okay, baby,” she tells him. She might be rubbing the scent glands on her wrists over him. It’s fine. Carlos sighs, and shifts, seeking more skin-to-skin. His forehead hits the skin of her collarbone, and Evie jolts. They may call it heat, but the fever is supposed to be low-grade, just a basic increase in body temperature. He’s supposed to feel pleasantly warm to the touch, like a little wood stove to cuddle up with, not like an oven. She touches her fingers to his cheek, and yep, that’s not what he’s supposed to feel like. “You’re burning up, C.” 

Jay drops to his knees next to them. Carlos has to be able to feel the new set of hands on his back, but he doesn’t give any sign of it, rubbing his face against Evie’s bare skin instead. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Feels shitty,” he mumbles. 

Evie reaches up to brush the hair out of his face. He flinches away from her hand, but he’s pressing closer against her body, away from the light, not pulling back. Evie can manage this, she  _ can.  _ “Do your eyes still hurt?” 

“Yeah. S’not supposed to be this bright, s’it?” 

Evie makes frantic eye contact with Jay over Carlos’ shoulder. They need to move, and quickly. “We’ll take you somewhere else,” she tells him. “We’ll find somewhere you can be comfortable, okay? We’ll find the right place.” 

He’s still pressed hot against her, as much skin-to-skin as he can manage to get with them both fully dressed. “‘kay.” he mumbles. Shit, shit, shit. Evie  _ thought-- _

Jay is on top of it. “Still skin-to-skin, right?” he asks, already stripping off his shirt. “Right, Eves?” 

Evie nods. She doesn’t want to push Carlos off of her, so she pushes his jacket down off his shoulders, pulls his shirt up as far as it’ll go without pushing him away. He gets with it pretty quick, all things considered, pushing off her to strip his shirt the rest of the way off , then leaning back in and sticking his hands up her top. It’s possibly the least sexual second base experience that Evie has ever had. Even with the whole heat pheromones thing, the raging fever really makes it hard for her to think straight. 

Next to them, Jay is ready. Shirtless, backpack on and hair twisted out of his face, he looks like some bizarre woodsman’s version of a wet dream, and even with his scent all weird and chemically repressed, he smells amazing. Evie kind of wants to lick him like a popsicle and then ride him like the pony she dreamed about owning when she was seven. Rather than sweeping her away to ride off into the sunset together, though, Jay bends down to offer her a hand getting up. Evie takes it, and maybe she pitches forwards a little more than necessary when he gives her hand a tug, because  _ gods,  _ she could ruin this boy given half a chance. Even if they have other priorities right now that aren’t having wild animal sex together, she’s going to rub her hands all over him at every possible opportunity. Obviously. 

Once Evie’s steady on her feet, Jay bends down again to pull Carlos upright too. He doesn’t move quite as smoothly as Evie did, even taking her flying stumble into consideration. He just kind of—fails to get his feet under himself at all, and crumples back down to the floor instead.

“Ugh.” He huffs out a breath. “Can we just leave me here to die in peace?”

Jay makes a weird noise in the back of his throat. “Nah.” he says, and bends down again to scoop Carlos up properly. “Up you go, buddy.” he says, getting one arm under Carlos’ legs and manhandling him up until he’s cradled like a princess, with their bare chests together for the maximum amount of skin-to-skin contact. “You comfy?” 

Carlos mumbles something that might be an agreement. It’s completely possible that his body is just giving up on all non-essential functions at this point, like communicating coherently. They look pretty comfy together, Evie thinks. All those freckles and strong muscles, slotting against each other like they’re meant to be tangled together, stuck like a pair of puzzle pieces. They look natural, in a way that makes something like jealousy flare up in Evie’s chest. She busies herself gathering up their stuff instead. 

Carlos whines. “Hurts,” he gets out, finally. He’s hiding his face again, only this time it’s pressed against Jay’s shoulder instead of Evie’s, and oh, that shouldn’t hurt this much to see. Evie isn’t jealous, she’s  _ not.  _ Her shoes get stung over her wrist, and Carlos’s jacket goes over her own shoulders, which gives her a second to get her face together and an excuse to breathe in the weird, sweet-tangy body smell of heat that’s probably set into the fabric. She has Mal, and Jay is still hers too, eleven weeks out of every twelve, and they’re a  _ family,  _ and--

The floor is clear. 

Evie holds open the door so that her boys can get out. Jay has to turn sideways and do an awkward little shuffle-step to avoid knocking Carlos’ head on the doorframe, and even though Carlos is already tucking his own head out of the way as much as he can, Jay’s weirdly sweet about making sure that he’s okay. Sure, they can’t keep his basic biological functions from frying his brain, but at least they can prevent further head trauma! 

It’s possible that Evie is slightly hysterical. 

“I can’t give him anything else for the pain yet,” she explains, once they’re moving. “Not until we find somewhere to settle down and go through the stuff. And, really, settling somewhere should help. We’ve been in and out all day, and I think the constant stress of having us swap in and out is making it worse.” 

They’re walking side by side now, and Jay has to heft Carlos’ mostly-limp body a little bit higher to look at Evie when he answers. “He’s been through worse before.” he says, but he looks nervous. “Right?” 

Evie doesn’t want to be the one to say it. “On the Isle, maybe.” she says, instead. “With you there!” 

Jay looks panicked. “We’ve been here!” he says, and oh, he’s upset. 

Fuck it. They’re already in a bad situation, she might as well come clean and risk making it worse. “We’ve never been on suppressants before.” Evie says slowly. “He’s never had us coming in and out before either, like we have been today. Even when-- when things were worse, we were either there or not.” 

She gestures them through another doorway, this time to the stairwell where this fucking thing started. 

“Jay,” she says, once they’re through and moving again. “he’s never even had a heat at a healthy weight before. Some omegas just have awful, painful heats like this, all the time. Our bodies turn things down when they know we can’t physically handle it!” She should stop talking, before she gets even louder, but for once Evie can’t keep herself under control, and she doesn't stop. “We could have messed things up even more by constantly leaving him and coming back, and there are so many things that could go wrong! I can’t even find studies on what happens when half of a pack is on suppressants and the other half isn’t! I don’t know how to help!” 

“Eves--” 

Fuck. She’s crying. “I’m sorry.” she says, voice shaking. “It doesn’t matter what I know right now. Come on.” 

Jay stops walking, which, that’s not helping. He’s not being a team player. “Eves, you do matter,” He says softly. 

Evie drags in a shaking breath. She will not cry right now. “Not right now.” She says. She’s pretty sure the wobble doesn’t come through in her voice. She’s good at controlling herself, she  _ is.  _

Jay keeps _pushing_ her, and usually she’d love him for it, but she can’t handle this right now, not when she’s already so close to the edge. “You always matter.” He insists. “You’re part of this pack, you know that.” 

Evie wipes at her eyes furiously, and keeps walking. “Doesn’t matter what your beta does if I can’t even keep you two safe.” 

Jay’s voice is soft, deceptively gentle to be coming from the guy who all the Auradon kids think is so violent. “Eves. Stop.” 

Carlos, apparently, is awake enough to chime in. “E, you’re doin’a lot to keep us safe.” 

Evie can’t do this. “Not enough.” she says. 

“It’s more than enough. You need to be okay too.” 

Evie wipes her eyes and shakes her head. “Right now all I need to do is find somewhere safe for you two. I cannot deal with anything else right now.” 

She’s been friends with Jay for years, and she and Carlos have known each other since they were too young to remember, so she knows that they’re not going to let this drop entirely. They’re good guys, when they’re not acting like idiots. They do care about her. Right now, though, Evie  _ needs  _ them to let this go. She's trying to project this, in the set of her shoulders, the small movements of her hands. 

She’s not going to turn to look at her boys, but as she starts walking again, she can hear them following behind her. 

“Got it.” Jay says, very very softly. “Eves. I’ve got you.” 

Evie doesn’t, can’t, won’t respond with words, but when they slow down she lets Jay tap his shoulder against hers, and she leans into it, and that’s enough, between them. 

+++

Once they reach the third floor, Evie stops. If they go much higher, they won’t be able to use the windows to get down easily, and it doesn’t make sense to cut off a potential escape route just for an extra minute of warning. Also, the study carrels will make decent hiding spots if it comes down to that, and the enclosed walls might make them a decently comfortable spot to settle in, depending on how Carlos is feeling about enclosed spaces right now. 

Evie turns to survey her troops. Jay seems to agree with her assessment of the third floor, because he stops right behind her. Or else he’s just tired. It’s hard to say. “I think we can stop here,” she announces. “We’re high enough that we should be able to hear anyone coming. What do you think?” 

Jay jostles Carlos, who is at least halfway conscious, based on the way he catches his own head when it rolls off Jay’s shoulder. “C?” he asks. “Can we stop here?” 

Carlos looks around. He’s blinking kind of a lot, but the only light in this section of the stacks is coming from the diffused light of the windows, which, considering that it’s just past sundown, isn’t much. The safety lights in the stairwells don’t reach this far into the stacks, so it shouldn’t be enough light to hurt his eyes, and if it is, then they have a problem far beyond what Evie can deal with anyway. The dark is comforting, in a way. It makes the place feel a bit more like home. All they need now is to find a venomous tarantula hiding in the dust by one of the unused desks, and it’ll be just like the library in Dragon Hall. 

“S’good.” Carlos announces, finally. “Feels safe enough.” 

Jay sets him down on his feet. He wobbles a bit, but manages to catch his balance before he falls over, which is probably a good sign. Gods, Evie wants to believe that it’s a good sign. 

“Do you want the stuff?” 

Carlos shakes his head. He’s looking around, like maybe he isn’t actually as down for staying here as he said before. “Can we move to--” he gestures to an alcove on the far side of the room, closer to the window. “back there, maybe?” 

Evie follows his hand. She doesn’t know why she’s even bothering to scope out the space. It’s going to be better, and even if it’s not, she’s going to move anyway. “Of course!” she chirps out. She doesn’t really care if they’re going to settle directly in front of the window, or on top of an air vent, or wherever. Making her boys happy is more important than finding the perfect space to settle down until Mal can catch up to them, and actually, settling down on top of an air vent might not be a bad idea. Sure, it’ll be immediately obvious that they’re here, but with their combined scent vented through the entire building, they’ll be harder to track down to a certain area. It’s not an ideal situation, obviously, but it’s something to consider, if this ever comes up again. 

Gods, Evie really hopes this doesn’t come up again. 

They slowly make their way over to the alcove that Carlos had pointed out. As Evie had suspected, he hadn’t just been pointing at random-- it’s a little space between a study box and a pillar, sheltered on two sides, out of view of the main staircase, and close enough to the window that they could potentially jam it open and get out before an adult can corner them off from the stairs. It’s way better than just picking one of the study carrels, and Evie would be upset that she hadn’t been the one to pick it out, if she weren’t so busy feeling awful about every other thing she’s already failed to do tonight. They don’t have time for her to be sad about stupid things, not when they’re down Mal and both the boys are out of their heads on pheromones. 

The boys, predictably, in the five seconds since Evie has last looked at them, have devolved into hitting each other. Wrestling, maybe? Something that involves a lot of struggling and flailing, that’s all Evie can tell. Their backpack hits the ground, and at least four bony limbs crash down a second later, although Evie still can’t tell which parts of which boy hit the ground first. 

“Woah, dude, hold on!” Jay is saying, as he’s shoving Carlos down, wrestling the backpack out of his grip so that he can actually undo the clips and let their supplies fall out. Mission apparently accomplished, Jay lets Carlos push him down and flop more or less on top of him as their omega digs through the bag. 

Carlos reaches the bottom of the bag, and looks pathetically up at Evie. “More drugs?” he asks. “Please?” 

Evie takes a deep breath. She can do this. “It’s in the side pocket. The sachet with the purple string.” 

He pulls it out. “Gross.” 

“I know, baby.” she says. There’s a bottle of water in her bag, which she pulls out before he can try to swallow the herbs dry. Boys, honestly. “You’ve gotta take it.” 

Carlos pulls a terrible face, but takes the bottle out of Evie’s hand when she holds it out to him. “Don’wanna.” he whines. 

Jay bumps Evie with a shoulder. “No other choice, right Eves? We’re all doing the best we can.” 

“Just take them,” Evie agrees. “You’ll feel better.” Probably. Maybe. She really, really hopes so. 

Carlos does, with barely a shudder at the taste. He’s such a nice boy sometimes. Evie worries about him. “Ugh. Cn’I sleep now?”

Jay is already manhandling him close, getting them settled together for the best skin-to-skin contact, but he looks up at Evie anyway to confirm. “Yeah. Right?” 

Evie settles down next to her boys. “Right. We’ve got you.” 

  
  


+++

Ugh. As Mal leads Fairy Godmother across campus to the stacks, she can’t make herself look the woman in the face. She’s going to have some absolutely  _ awful  _ smug expression, so sure that she’s doing the right thing. It’s only going to get worse when she sees that she was right, that they’re still on campus, and Mal is going to scream before she admits that sometimes, maybe, Fairy Godmother is smarter than the average Auradon adult. 

After Mal led her to the dorms, Fairy Godmother sat her down and told her in no uncertain terms what was going to happen if Mal kept leading her in circles around campus like this. There weren’t any thumbscrews involved, but there were words like “reported to Ben” and “structurally weakened bonds” and “private tutoring”. 

She keeps trying to talk, too, like Mal is going to listen to her. Mal doesn’t need any advice from any fairy stupid enough to tie herself to goodness, thank you very much, and she’s even less inclined to take it from a woman who can’t even smell people, yet somehow still thinks it’s a good idea to prattle on about the sanctity of relationship bonds and monogamy even as she’s swooping in to help a bonded pack. 

On the steps of the stacks, Mal stops short. Behind her, Fairy Godmother falls quiet, thank the  _ gods. _

“Mal? Is your pack in there, sweetheart?” 

Ugh. Stupid gods. Mal valiantly resists the urge to throttle the woman with her bare hands. 

“They’re here.” she says.  _ Or they were,  _ she adds to herself. She can still smell traces of them, the weird sweet scent of heat, and their regular everyday smells underneath. Their scents have been changing since they’ve left the Isle, but they’re still there, just as familiar as ever. If her pack has left the stacks yet, they didn’t take this way out. 

“Are you going to go inside?” 

Mal shakes herself. Wake up, dipshit. They’re relying on you. “We have a knock,” she explains. “A code.” 

“Oh.” Fairy Godmother says. “Go ahead then, dear.” 

Mal turns to shoot her a glare. “Can you take a step back?” 

“Ah.” Fairy Godmother shuffles her dainty little feet out of Mal’s way. Idiot. How is Mal supposed to open a door with someone breathing up her back? “Of course.” 

Mal knocks in rhythm. Two short knocks, then three close together. Pause. Repeat. When she jiggles the handle, it’s still locked. “Fairy Godmother!” she calls. Sure, she’s capable of opening the door by herself, but she doesn’t need to waste the time when she has a key waiting right next to her. “I need the key.” 

Fairy Godmother hurries back from where she was waiting at the side of the entryway. “Of course, dearest. Stand back”

The door swings open. 

+++

Evie and her boys have been settled upstairs for maybe half an hour, more or less, when there’s a noise from the first floor. Evie, who had been catching Jay up on the latest between the cheerleading squad and the band kids (there was an incident with vanilla pudding and a tuba, it was a whole  _ thing _ ), freezes. 

“You did lock the door behind us,” she says, “right?” 

And then before they can do anything other than stare at each other, then there’s the unmistakable sound of the heavy front doors opening, and footsteps coming inside. 

_ Fuck.  _

+++

By most Auradon standards, the library stacks at night are, to put it lightly, creepy as hell. They’re dusty, barely used by most students even in the daylight, and the nighttime safety lights are these green-tinted enchanted lanterns mounted at irregular intervals on the walls so that their light won’t damage the books. They lend a nice spooky atmosphere to the place, which might be why Mal feels so comfortable here. The building is like an abandoned graveyard for the remains of juvenile academia. It’s  _ fantastic. _

It’s also perfect for Mal’s purpose tonight. Mostly empty, yet still up to building standards for students, which means running water, lights, and external doors that lock. The constant temperature control for the sake of the books means that it’s a comfortable place for people to hide in as well, and with the limited numbers of library staff, the upper floors often remain unchecked for days at a time. 

In the main student library, trying for even a quick makeout session in the back corners of the shelves can get students kicked out before there’s time to get started. Here, though, Mal’s seen a squirrel corpse that one of the more unhinged students was trying to preserve as an art project sit untouched in a carrell for three weeks before someone finally noticed and removed it, so it’s pretty much the perfect hiding place for a few days. 

Fairy Godmother looks deeply uncomfortable to be following Mal’s lead. Perfect. 

Mal cups her hands around her mouth. “Hey!” she shouts. 

+++

Evie’s been on edge since they saw the first dots of light moving towards the stacks. By the time she hears Mal yell, her nerves are shot. Jay’s not much better off either, and Carlos… isn’t doing great, but Evie’s sure that if he were more lucid right now, he’d be just as tense as the two of them. 

Sound doesn't translate perfectly from the first floor, but there’s definitely footsteps, the sound of people moving slowly in a dark space. The lights haven’t come on yet, which could be a good sign, or could mean nothing. Maybe they have night vision tools, and they’re just waiting to try and catch their missing students at a disadvantage. Maybe it really is just Mal, all on her own, and Evie’s imagining the sound of more than one person. Maybe everything is fine. 

There’s the sound of more footsteps, and then Mal’s voice echoes up again. “You can come out!” she’s yelling. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” 

It’s weird. It’s really weird, and Evie doesn’t want to send any of her family down into an unknown like this. It feels wrong, the same way that walking into an unknown alley at night feels wrong. Sure, you’re going to come out of it alive, but it’s not a situation that you want to walk into unarmed. 

“Not all of us,” says Evie, when Mal yells for a third time, and Jay moves to gather up their stuff again. “Not yet.” 

+++

There is no sound of footsteps, because Mal’s crew is better than that. There’s a very faint rustling, and then, at the top of the stairs, Jay melts out of the shadows. 

He nods at her. “Hey.” 

Mal is so fucking glad to see him. “Hey,” she says back. Fairy Godmother is next to her, pretty obviously, but she’s staying quiet for once. “You guys made it.” 

Jay nods. “Fairy Godmother?” he asks, tilting his head towards her. 

Mal makes a face, mostly for Fairy Godmother’s benefit. She’s making their hand signal to  _ stand down/wait _ with the hand that’s not in their teacher’s direct line of sight, so hopefully her second-in-command will get the message.

“She’s with me,” Mal says out loud. “Long story.” 

Jay crosses his arms, mostly to hide that he’s flashing Mal their  _ ok  _ sign back. He doesn’t look happy about it, but he’s willing to listen to her, at least. “We’ve got time.” he says. 

Mal smirks. “She made a promise. Apparently, these do-gooders don’t like it when their students are hiding from them, or something. They want us to come back, hang out in their panic room.” 

Fairy Godmother bursts in, an ill-timed burst of adult supervision. “It’s my responsibility as your teacher and as an adult who cares about you children to see you all kept safe!” she cries. 

Jay stares. “Is she for real?” 

Mal snorts. Like they’re going to trust a teacher to keep them safe. “As far as I can tell, yes.” It’s funny that Fairy Godmother thinks she’s going to get Mal’s pack anywhere they couldn’t get themselves, but hey, maybe this is what Maleficent meant when she told Mal to take advantage of everything she can on the mainland. Taking advantage of a head teacher is probably something Mal’s mother would approve of. 

Jay is moving down the steps now, closer to where Mal and the Fairy Godmother are still standing in the entryway. “Wild, man. We trust her?” 

“About as far as I can spell her.” 

Fairy Godmother’s jaw drops open. “I made a promise to you, young lady!” she cries. 

Mal laughs. “She did. She swore that she has only the best of intentions.” 

Fairy Godmother looks about five seconds away from stomping her foot. Good. Mal hopes she does, and then chokes in the inevitable dust cloud. “I demand that you take me to see Evie.” She says. “Right now.” 

Isle kids don’t show surprise, but Mal is pretty sure she sees Jay’s mouth twitch, just a little. “Sure,” he says. “We’re upstairs, if the lady would like to head right this way.” He holds out a hand like he’s going to lead Fairy Godmother up the stairs. If Mal were being generous, she might say that he looks good like this. The low light softens his sharp edges, makes his messy hair look almost storybook-romantic. It turns him from a scrappy kid into a dime-novel hero, the kind that Mal remembers seeing on the covers of the books that her mother wouldn’t let her read as a child. 

Mal is not generous, though, and she shoves past them. 

“Scuse me,” she says. There. That should be polite enough to satisfy the old witch, Mal thinks, even as she’s pushing around Fairy Godmother to get to the front of their little group. She wants to get the first look at her pack. They’re going to be fine, she knows they are, but she’s the boss alpha, the leader, and she needs to see her family with her own eyes before she lets Fairy Godmother get her magic fingers on them. 

“Eves?” she calls out, “C?” 

Evie’s voice rings out from somewhere in the stacks. “We’re over here!” 

Mal runs ahead. An upper floor for sure. On Mal’s left, it sounded like. Probably near the windows, if they were thinking about escape routes when they settled, which they had to have been. They’re not paranoid bastards for nothing, and planning their escapes has always served them well in the past. 

There. Not between the bookshelves, but tucked near the window, out of the line of sight, halfway behind a pillar. 

Mal runs the last few feet, throwing herself down before she’s even stopped moving, sliding into the little nest that Evie and Carlos have made on the floor. They’re both okay. Mal can smell them, and they’re both whole, and here, and safe. Thank the gods, they’re both okay. 

Mal flings her arms around Evie, who is both sitting up and still fully dressed. Her jacket is open, and she looks kind of rumpled, but that just makes Mal want to rough her up even more. She rubs her hands over Evie’s shoulders, checking her over. 

“You’re okay?” Mal demands. 

Evie leans into her touch. “Hanging in there,” she murmurs. “You brought Fairy Godmother? Here?” 

Mal rubs her face against Evie’s neck, getting her nice and covered in Mal’s alpha scent. Evie smells kind of sour, but that’s okay, Mal can cover it up now. “I didn’t have a choice,” Mal whispers. “She’s sworn to help us. Gave her word.” 

“Fine,” Evie hisses back. “We need the help.” 

Oh. Damn. Mal reaches down to pat at Carlos, who seems to be curled up mostly in Evie’s lap. That’s not so unusual, but if Evie says he’s not feeling so hot, Mal isn’t one to disagree with her. “He’s not good?” She smacks him, gently. “Hey, C?” 

Evie swats her hand away. “Shh, hey. Be nice.” 

Mal settles for stroking Evie again. “I’m never nice.” she mutters, mostly to herself. Evie is busy shaking Carlos awake, against what seems to be his best efforts. 

“Hey, baby,” she whispers. “Are you awake?” 

Carlos curls up tighter. He’s shirtless, Mal notices. Must be a bad one, if they’re going skin-to-skin. “Hur’s.” he mumbles. 

Evie sighs. “I know it hurts, baby. Mal’s here now. She’s brought help.”

Mal tries smacking him again, but nicely this time. On his bare shoulder, all friendly-like. Carlos sits up at that, so score one for Mal. 

“Wha?” He looks hilarious, with his hair sticking up like he’s electrified himself again, but he also smells sad, and kind of sour. “What help?” he asks. 

Of course, because nothing in Mal’s life can ever go according to plan, this is when Fairy Godmother rounds the corner. She stops dead, taking in the scene in front of her. 

“Oh.” she says. “Oh, goodness.” One hand comes up to cover her mouth. Mal hopes she smears lipstick all over, and can’t get it off. She hopes that it stains her dress, and her hands, and it shows up vivid and red like the blood that’s already there, invisible on her magical fingers. 

Her lipstick is dusty pink, of course, because blood red is a color for villains and whores, but the sentiment is still there. 

Mal lets herself growl. It’s not like any of her pack likes Fairy Godmother very much, but after the biting incident of their first week, and then another incident with the boy’s dorm monitor that ended up being brought to Fairy Godmother after what was, all things considered, a pretty minor fire in the bathtub, Carlos especially hates her. Part of the entire fucking reason Mal was running ahead, she remembers now, was to try and give him some extra warning before they made their already angry, hormonally fucked up boy deal with his last favorite teacher. She flings her arms out to cover Carlos and Evie, as if it’s going to make any difference now. 

“I can explain--!” she cries. 

Fairy Godmother, wisely, holds her hands up. “I can see for myself, thank you Mal.” she says. “Stand down, alpha.” 

Mal doesn’t like it, but she can stop herself growling, at least. Fairy Godmother, maybe sensing her chance, takes a cautious step forwards towards the nest. She’s not moving very fast, but Jay moves along with her, shadowing her movement, ready to step in if needed. Better to be prepared than caught in shit, and sometimes just having a guard there is enough to turn people off. 

“Oh.” Fairy Godmother looks at Jay, for real this time. “Alphas?” she asks. 

Mal is glaring at her, but Jay just nods. Fairy Godmother is watching him, not Mal, so she doesn’t see the glare. She’s probably not stupid enough not to notice, but she doesn’t  _ see,  _ so that’s-- it’s something. Not nothing. 

“Alright.” Fairy Godmother says, keeping her voice soft and level. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. Quiet adults are the  _ worst.  _ Mal knows how to deal with yelling. She  _ likes  _ yelling. Being screamed at means she can scream back. Adults who get quiet are so much worse. Mal is good at being a pushy little brat, but the quiet ones never seem to fall for it. When Maleficent screamed, Mal was allowed, expected even, to scream back at her-- 

But she’s not at home now, is she. 

“Who is actually in trouble here?” Fairy Godmother asks gently. She’s looking at each kid in turn. “Mal? Jay?” 

Mal chokes back the growl she wants to release. “Not Evie,” she grits out. 

Fairy Godmother looks unspeakably kind. It’s something about the eyes, probably. Disgusting. 

“Goodness.” she says. “May I come closer, dear?” 

“Can Fairy Godmother come help, C? She’s going to help us out.” 

Carlos shakes his head iritibally, like he’s still trying to wake up. “I’m  _ awake.”  _ he insists. “I know.” 

Mal swallows back another growl. “ _ You _ need to tell her it’s okay to come closer. S’Etiquette.” 

“Fine.” Carlos mutters to the floor. 

Evie, perfect Evie, squeezes Mal’s hand. “He says it’s fine!” she calls out. 

Fairy Godmother approaches slowly, which is a good idea. Evie’s jumpy, and Mal can see her knife holsters are exposed and ready for her to grab at a moment’s notice. 

“Oh, you poor children.” Fairy Godmother breathes out as she finally gets close. Jay is still shadowing her, like a funhouse mirror reflection moving closer along with her. She gestures at him in a very teacher-ly way. “Go on, get with your pack, dear. I know you’re dying to do it.” 

Jay slides past her, tucking himself on the side of their nest, between Carlos and the pillar. He looks miserable. “Sorry.” 

Evie reaches over to pat his arm. “No need. You did your best.” 

Fairy Godmother nods along with Evie as she scoots even closer to their spot. “You did very well, Jay. And you, Mal. You’ve been doing quite the job keeping them safe, hm?” 

Carlos is glaring up at her. “Don’t patronize us.” he snaps. Oh, this is going to be fun, Mal realizes. 

Fairy Godmother blinks. “My apologies.” she says. “May I touch you, Carlos?” 

Carlos glares down at his hands, and doesn’t answer. Usually, Mal would approve wholeheartedly of noncompliance, but in this case, Evie seems pretty sure that they need help, and of course, Evie’s the one who pushes. “Can Fairy Godmother check you over, C?” 

Carlos is still looking down, but Mal can see the look he’s making under those long eyelashes. “Yeah.” he says. “Fine.” 

“She’s going to make you stop hurting so much.” Evie says, and shoves him off of her lap. “She’s not going to do anything else.” 

Fairy Godmother nods earnestly. “I’m certainly going to try, Evie. Let’s have a peek. Can you stand up for me?” 

Carlos gets to his feet slowly, so slowly that Mal is pretty sure he’s doing it just to irritate Fairy Godmother, rather than for any real reason. He’s not dying, after all, just feverish and disoriented. If the little asshole can run halfway across the isle on a broken leg, there’s no way he can’t stand up for five minutes while he’s heat-sick. 

Fairy Godmother, interestingly, seems to be buying it. Carlos is really good at looking pathetic when he wants to, better than most people Mal knows over the age of five or so, which is usually when kids start looking sticky and terrible rather than pathetic and sweet. It’s something to do with his fucking bambi eyes, probably, and the way he knows how to kind of collapse in on himself so that he looks all delicate and pathetic and harmless, like he’s looking away and hunching over because he’s scared, and not because he’s trying to find the best wall to shove you against once he’s got a good grip on one of the knives hidden in his jacket. 

There aren’t many good walls here, and besides, Mal is pretty sure that Carlos isn’t going to have a go at Fairy Godmother with a knife just because she’s bad at knowing how to help them. He’s getting something from her, though, and Mal feels kind of stupid for not figuring it out until Carlos goes into a full-body shiver and lets himself list towards the pillar, as though for the support. 

Fairy Godmother flutters her hands like she wants to be the one supporting him, and goes sort of--gooey. “Oh.” she says gently. “Okay, sweet, you can sit down again. Don’t push yourself. Do you want to get cozy with your pack for me?” 

Carlos glares up at her through his stupidly thick lashes, swaying in place. It’s actually kind of hysterical that Fairy Godmother keeps trying to engage with Carlos now, when all she’s been getting for weeks of goodness class, the ideal place for positive interactions with their little nerd, is monosyllabic answers. Her trying to make a connection with him now, under less than ideal circumstances, is going to make Mal cry actual tears of laughter if she thinks about it too hard. Her persistence would almost be admirable, actually, if it weren’t so pathetic. 

After a  _ painfully  _ long moment of silence, during which Mal tries not to burst into actual tears, Fairy Godmother seems to realize that she’s fighting a losing battle. 

“I’m sorry.” she says, with a patronizing little nod. Like they’re such silly children, refusing to be talked to like they’re infants. “Do you want to get comfortable while I’m helping you? I don’t want to cause you any more pain than necessary, and it seems like you’ve had a pretty hard day already.” 

“Sure,” Carlos says. “As long as you don’t use that stupid baby voice again.” 

Point made, apparently, he sits down. He’s still sort of glaring, which isn’t great for his engagement tactic, but maybe now that he’s got what he wanted, he’s giving up with looking cute and sad. 

“Mm.” Fairy Godmother raises her hands, telegraphing her movements before she puts a hand to Carlos’ forehead. “Have you had heats before, or is this your first?” 

Mal’s alpha brain kind of wants to smack Fairy Godmother’s hands off of her pack member, but Carlos seems to be handling it okay. Or else he’s feeling shitty enough that it’s worth it to stay compliant. “Had them before.” he says. 

Fairy Godmother moves her hands down, over his throat and the soft spots there. “Are your heats always like this, dear or is this something unusual for you?” she asks. 

He’s breathing carefully, which makes sense, considering where Fairy Godmother’s hands are. “This is weird. They’re not usually—” he swallows, hard. “Not usually this bad.” 

Fairy Godmother frowns. “Mm. And has your pack stayed with you, or have they been running around all day?” 

Evie’s grip tightens on Mal’s hand at the question, like she’s trying to cut her circulation off. Ouch. Mal’s not sure that she understands why this question is so much worse than the others, but Evie certainly seems bothered by it, and Mal trusts her. 

Mal also knows that they haven’t been together today, and that telling the old hag ‘no, we were too busy trying to keep your untrained knothead brats off our backs’ isn’t going to get the response she wants. She could also find some choice words about their biology teacher, and the ‘extra credit’ opportunities that he’s been offering the pretty boys if they’ll just stay after class with him, but it’s also not the time. 

The moment drags. Even with how uncooperative Carlos can be when he doesn’t want to do something, it’s a long time to not give any answer. Mal is usually on board with making teachers suffer, but this is a little bit more important than schoolwork, and if Evie is worried, she’s worried. Mal shifts her weight to get a better look at Carlos’ face. It’s pretty much the opposite of reassuring. Rather than perking up the longer he’s awake, he seems to be looking worse, to the point that Mal’s sure she’s seen corpses fished out of the ocean with better color. 

“Has your pack been with you today?” Fairy Godmother repeats, maybe realizing that she’s not going to get an answer. “This is important, dear. I need to know what sort of bond you have, in order to heal it correctly.” 

Carlos shakes his head, very slightly. He closes his eyes while he does so, like even the small movement is disorienting. “Evie knows stuff. M’gonna go be sick again. Back in ten. Five. Whatever.” 

Mal is honestly impressed that he makes it to his feet on the first try, considering. Fairy Godmother and Jay both look somewhat less impressed. 

“Oh--!” Fairy Godmother gasps, leaning back as Carlos misjudges his next step and almost falls over her.

Jay lunges up after him. “Hey, furbrain.” he says, catching Carlos with an arm around his body. “Got your back. We’ll be a minute.” 

Evie waves them off. “We’ll be here.” she says sweetly. 

Fairy Godmother watches them go with a horrifying look of concern. It’s almost hard to watch. “Evie?” She asks tentatively, “Do you know what’s going on, dearest?” 

Evie sighs. “Sort of. He’s had heats before, but never this bad. He had a dose of--” she stutters, catching herself before she says the truth, which is that they didn’t think about what medications they would need to steal to help with a rough heat cycle, and they’ve been using the herbal remedies that they used back home, which Fairy Godmother doesn’t need to know about, “Of a salicylic blend about an hour ago, but it hasn’t been making as much difference as I’d like. We haven’t all been together today, and I think it’s making everything worse, but we’ve also never had a heat where some of us are on suppressants, so I don’t know what the effects of that are either. I’ve been trying to keep his fever down, to manage the pain, but I don’t know if he’s been taking them all the time.” She hesitates again. “We don’t have special pills, or anything.” she finishes. 

Fairy Godmother nods, taking the information in. “Goodness.” she says. “You’re doing a beautiful job taking care of your pack, Evie dear. In the past, has anything like this ever happened?” 

Evie lets out a hysterical little laugh. “No. He’s never had a heat like this before.” 

“I see.” Fairy Godmother says, seriously. There’s a tiny bit of unnatural color to her cheeks, like they’re flustering her, maybe. “Ah. Pardon my language here, but do you often take sexual gratification from one another during this time?” 

Mal snorts. “No.” 

“I was asking Evie, dear.” Fairy Godmother singsongs, not looking at Mal. 

Evie presses back against Mal. Warning her to stay quiet, maybe? Gathering support? It’s hard for Mal to think straight with a warm body pressed up against her, especially while they’re surrounded by their combined pack-heat scent like this. Evie’s voice is soft and practically dripping with venomous sweetness when she answers. “No. Carlos doesn’t like sex. It makes him uncomfortable even outside of heat.” 

Fairy Godmother’s perfectly groomed brows lift. It looks kind of unnatural. Is there a fairy equivalent to botox, Mal wonders? Her face looks so smooth and fake.

“So you’ve never--?” 

Mal growls. “He doesn’t like it.” 

Evie reaches over to squeeze Mal’s hand. Ouch. “We’ve tried it once or twice, but it’s not a good solution for us. It won’t go well if you suggest it.” 

Fairy Godmother nods. “That’s fine, dear. Alright. I’m going to lower his fever, and then I’m taking all of you back to campus, where you are going to stay in the safe room, do you understand that?” 

“Yes, Fairy Godmother.” Evie says. 

Mal can’t help herself. “The panic room isn’t going to help!”

Fairy Godmother frowns, and there’s a hint of brilliant blue hiding behind her gentle expression now. “The safe room is the only place on campus that is equipped for this kind of situation, Mal. As much as you want your little pack to feel secure, I cannot let you stay in the stacks.” She waves her hands. “The librarians alone, sheesh!” 

Mal glares. “Our room is set up for this.”

“Your room-- well. Your room is out of the way, I suppose.” 

“We got through the first day there just fine.” Shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. Maybe Fairy Godmother will go lighter on their punishment if she thinks she’s helping a bunch of mostly incompetent children, rather than teenagers who’ve dealt with a whole day of heat on their own already. Regroup. “Our best interest is staying in our own room, getting us whatever meds he needs, and letting us stay together.” 

“I’m afraid the school rules are in place for a reason, Mal. I cannot, in good faith, let the four of you stay, unmonitored--” 

“Unmonitored?” Evie sounds exactly like an Auradon kid, like  _ Audrey,  _ which means she’s freaking out. “The panic room has cameras?” 

“It has observation points, so that students can request help, if needed.” 

Mal gives Evie’s hand a quick squeeze. “No. We’re not going to stay somewhere where you can watch us all the time. We stay in our room.” 

“I understand that you have unique needs--” Fairy Godmother starts. 

Mal cuts her off. “What, that we’ve spent our entire lives staying alive because we know when to hide?” 

“I think, considering the circumstances,” Fairy Godmother says slowly, “that I can probably bend the rules, just this once. You may stay in your own rooms, provided that you allow an adult in to check up on you during the day.” 

“Fine.” 

Just like that, Fairy Godmother snaps back to her role as the benevolent teacher again. “Evie, dear, do you know anything else--” 

Mal cuts her off again. 

“Jay?” she calls. The boys are on their way back, but they’re moving slowly, and it doesn’t look right. They’re leaning together, and they’re both upright, but they don’t seem very stable, and something just pings in Mal’s alpha brain as  _ wrong wrong wrong.  _

Jay looks up at her voice. “We’re good!” he calls. They’re not good, but he’s got it under control, then. No need for Mal to get involved right now, they’ll make it back to her just fine on their own. They’ve certainly made it through worse and weirder situations before, and all in all, this isn’t nearly as bad as the time that Mal, shorter than even her mother at age twelve, had dragged Jay, who had shot up in height early, back to their hideout after he’d had a bad run-in with the oldest Hook girl’s sword.

“Never better.” Carlos mumbles. He’s probably aiming for sarcasm, but oh, he sounds bad. 

Fairy Godmother stands up in a hurry. “Oh, dear.” she’s muttering as she gets herself up. “Oh, goodness.” 

Before either of the girls can stop her, she’s hurrying her funny little run over to where the boys are standing by the stairwell. She could move a lot faster if she’d ditch the sensible-looking pencil skirt business, and those stupid low heeled shoes, but appearances matter, and hiding a sorceress in headmistress’s clothing is easier than casting a glamour over one of the most powerful fairies on this side of the ocean. 

“Here we go.” 

+++

Mal can feel the magic being drawn before she can see it. It’s like something in the air shifts, like a wave, pulling at some part of Mal’s being like it’s going to suck her in and tumble her out to the sharks unless she can stand against it. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it’s a lot of sensation to be feeling, and it echoes around Mal’s head, inside her skull, sparking open the pain that was there, oh evil, not even a few hours ago, when she woke up in the infirmary bed with her skull fit to crack open. 

Fairy Godmother waves a hand, and her blue-tinted sparkles rain out of her fingertips and over the boys. They’re too close to each other for Fairy Godmother to cast her spell over only one of them, but strangely, the spell seems to slide off of Jay, the sparkles sliding over his skin without doing anything, redirecting their course to their intended target. The sparks settle on Carlos, resting on his shoulders, arms, hair, before disappearing. It takes a second for the spell to hit, and then-- 

Mal throws herself at Fairy Godmother-- 

Jay lets go of Carlos to try and hold Mal back--

Evie is shouting-- 

Carlos is fighting hard to keep his eyes open, to keep from dropping to the floor as his body goes limp-- 

Mal reaches Fairy Godmother first, before the glitter of her spell even fades--

The fire that Mal carries inside her chest is building. She can feel her fingertips heating up, warming like they’ve been placed on an iron. She reaches out before she can stop herself, before Jay can reach her to pull her back, and she grabs Fairy Godmother by the shoulder and spins the woman around to face her. “What did you do?!” Mal shouts. “What the hell did you do?!” 

Fairy Godmother opens her mouth to answer, but before she can get a word out, Carlos stops being able to fight against the spell any longer. He lets out a pathetic kind of squeak, and as Mal stares, his eyes roll back and he goes ragdoll-limp. He hits the floor hard. 

Fairy Godmother gasps. She twitches, like she’s going to try and move a single muscle towards Mal’s pack member, who  _ she  _ spelled, so before she can think to do anything else, Mal shoves a burning hand in her face. 

“Don’t.” Mal commands. “Back up. You aren’t touching him.” 

Fairy Godmother, wisely, takes a step back. 

“What the fuck did you  _ do _ ?” Mal asks, and her voice is oh so steady, not even a touch of the hysteria she’s feeling in this moment. This is bad, this is really bad, and if she fucks up and hurts the headmistress it’s going to be even worse. 

Luckily, Fairy Godmother seems equally freaked out. “It’s a sleeping spell!” she says frantically. “Very simple! He’ll wake up in an hour, no more.” 

Mal can see Jay moving now behind Fairy Godmother, checking Carlos’s breathing, making sure he’s not going to start bleeding everywhere when they pick him up. “Why?” Mal demands. 

Fairy Godmother flinches back from Mal’s fury. “He needs time and rest to heal, and he’s not going to get it if you three keep running him about. I thought I would spare him the pain of moving around again.” 

Mal growls. “So you spell him? What  _ good  _ is that supposed to do? You think waking up with bruises is going to hurt less than a little walk across campus?” 

“I didn’t think--” 

“Of course you didn’t.” Mal snaps. She can see both the boys now as Jay manhandles Carlos’ unconscious body up into a carry. It doesn’t look especially comfortable for either of them. “In the future? You’re going tell us what you’re about to do. You tell us before you do it, and then you wait. We need to know these things  _ before _ they happen.” 

Fairy Godmother spreads her hands, as though showing Mal that they’re empty, no weapons. It’s a pretty meaningless gesture coming from a magic user, of course, and it’s not like the thought even counts, because showing her hands is more like pointing her most powerful weapon right at Mal, rather than showing how open and disarmed she is. “My apologies. I clearly misjudged the situation. I assumed that you would want your pack to suffer through the least amount of pain.” 

Mal growls. She’s still wiped from passing out earlier, and there’s been a pounding in her head since the infirmary bed that hasn’t gotten any better since reuniting with her pack, but she’s pretty sure she can shoot a nice shower of sparks if it comes down to it. It won’t be her best fireball, but it’ll be more than this old bat is expecting. She’s got fairy magic, sure, but Mal also has dragon blood in her, and she’s ready to turn to some good, old-fashioned fire and mayhem if needs be. 

“We want him to know what’s going on,” Mal growls out. “Waking up somewhere new with no idea how he got there isn’t helping. He’s going to panic, and it’s going to be your fault.” 

“You do not question my authority, young lady!” Fairy Godmother snaps. She’s got a bright pink flush glowing high on her cheeks, and oh, Mal wants to keep pushing, get her even more flustered. She could do it, too, keep telling her the truths that she doesn’t want to hear until she gets the old hag to snap even more, maybe give them something unthinkingly that they’ll be able to use. 

But. Mal is tired. Her crew, clustered around her, is tired. Carlos is literally unconscious, which takes them down to functionally two members, because once one of the boys goes down, the other one is going to be all stupid over them, even aside from how Jay’s hands are occupied. They’re playing the long game, Mal reminds herself. It makes more sense to back down, and let Fairy Godmother carry through with her empty promises of safety, and let her crew regroup before they try to do anything else that might get them hurt. They need to regroup before they do  _ anything  _ else. So. That’s it, then. Mal will back down. She swallows her growl, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and takes a step back, away from Fairy Godmother, towards Evie and their things. 

“Take us home.” she announces. “Just-- take us home. Evie, get the stuff.” 

Evie scrambles to follow her order. “On it.” she says, and Mal can see, as she keeps her own body between her girlfriend and the fairy in front of her, that Evie’s hands are shaking. 

It only takes a moment before Evie is ready, their things stuffed quickly into the backpack, her coat settled neatly back over her shoulders like the princess that she is. Mal doesn’t want her getting hurt, not like this. It’s too stupid, to give up and throw away all of their work up to this point for a few days of unrestricted freedoms. This is the right choice, Mal reassures herself. This will play out. 

She steps forward, keeping herself between Fairy Godmother and Evie. The boys are on her other side, but they’ll fall into line with her soon enough, once she can get them all moving. She’s going to get them all back, maybe not safe and sound, and not quite whole and healthy either, but together. Together and alive, that’s what Mal is aiming for. 

She makes a sweeping gesture to the stairs, the library, the walk through the dark campus, which is only going to be more difficult with an unconscious kid to drag along with them.

“Lead the way.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))

Mal is half-listening to a story Evie’s telling her, something about a roommate situation gone wrong with the girls down the hall “-- _ how _ we’re supposed to pay any attention to her hair with her face looking like that, I really couldn’t say--” when something changes. Mal is on high alert even before Jay kicks Evie in the leg, trying to get her attention. 

“He’s up.” Jay says, jerking his head at the limp body sprawled over his own. “Don’t freak out.” 

Evie stills for the barest moment, then flips from bubbly teenage gossip to sharp-eyed herbalist in the space of a breath. “C? Baby?” she asks softly. “Are you awake?” 

Carlos doesn't move, but Mal is pretty sure he’s up. She’s not able to read energy like her mother, but she knows her crew, and Carlos isn’t this still when he’s actually asleep. 

Jay shifts, and yeah, he’s got to be awake now. It’s impossible to be holding your body that tense and still be asleep. “You’re on top of me, dude,” Jay says, “I know you’re up. Wanna show Evie that pretty face?” 

Carlos is shaking his head. It’s not much of a movement, but it’s something, and any coherent response they can get out of him is a good sign at this point. Mal is pretty sure there’s nobody in the world who likes waking up without being able to remember how they got there, but some of her crew reacts worse than others to losing control, and with Carlos, anything short of trying to stab or bite them is probably a good response. He’s shaking all over, Mal notices, like he’s been doused in ice water. It looks kind of painful, and Mal has to stand up and let the wave of anger wash over her like a physical heat, even though it’s probably not. 

She hasn’t set anything on fire by accident in nearly a week. The last thing they need right now is for her to set the curtains on fire, though, so she takes the step away just to be safe. Breathe in, feel the energy around your body, Mal. Take the  _ perfectly fucking justified anger  _ and drop it into the pit that lives in your heart. Bury the feeling, let it settle down with the rest of the fire ( _ blue,  _ not green, not like her mother’s fire) and put down the torch. The flames can wait. The kingdom will burn on it’s own, in time. Any place that locks up it’s citizens, abandons those that it decides are too difficult to deal with, ties down the magic in those who should be wielding it,  _ burning  _ with it, will fall. They will be the push, the spark that sends this hypocrite kingdom tumbling down. It will happen, in time. Not everything has to be immediate. There’s more important things that need doing right now, so Mal sticks the fire somewhere safe, and turns back to her family. She’s not great at comfort, and she’s uncomfortably (hah, she thinks to herself) aware of it, but she’s got to try. 

Carlos is still shaking, but he’s moved a bit, so that instead of just turning away from Evie, who is still trying to help, he’s buried his face in Jay’s shoulder. That’s okay, probably. He might also be crying, which isn’t. 

“Hey,” Mal manages to get out. “Furball. We’re all here. Nothing’s going to happen on my watch.” 

She’s sure of this. Nothing else is going to happen to her pack tonight, and she’ll rip apart anyone who tries. Evie will help, she’s just as good as anyone with a knife, and nobody ever expects it. They’ll defend their boys and take care of each other, just like they always have. 

Unfortunately, their boys don’t seem to be doing great on their end of the deal, which is keeping each other reasonably in one piece until the girls come up with a plan. Carlos is still doing his own special brand of what Mal likes to call Flipping The Fuck Out (knife-free edition), and, okay, it does look like Jay is doing his best to help, but it’s taking a long fucking while and Mal doesn’t necessarily have the patience to wait them out if she’s going to have to watch. 

Pacing over to check the door again is a productive use of her time. Yeah. It’s not the patrolling that she wants to do, but there’s no way that she’s leaving this room right now, and checking the locks (one, two, tap the latch just to make sure) is something that feels more concrete than just breathing down the other’s necks. Mal detours to the bathroom, too, just for something else to do. She’s-- checking on the supplies, that’s it. They keep most of Evie’s poisons in the bathroom, mixed in with all of her makeup and hair bottles so nobody looks twice, and it’s important to have enough poison around, in case they need it. Yeah. 

It only takes a minute, but by the time Mal comes back out into the main room, things seem marginally more under control. Both of her boys are sitting on the edge of the bed, and Jay had a hand on Carlos’s shoulder, and is reminding him to “Breathe, dude, come on.” 

It takes another minute, during which Mal paces around the entire room four times, and kicks over a stack of books once, but they get there eventually. On her fourth loop, things seem to have settled down enough for her to move closer again, and by the time she scoots herself up next to Evie, everyone is mostly upright and functional again. Sure, the boys are still more or less on top of each other, but that’s normal for them. 

Jay sits back against the wall, dragging Carlos along with him. As soon as they’re settled, Evie practically throws herself down next to them, and Mal follows, slower. Evie’s hands are fluttering like she wants to touch, but she’s holding herself back. “Fairy Godmother spelled you, C,” she explains. “She thought it would hurt less if you could be asleep while we moved out of the stacks. We’re in the dorm, now. We’re all here. Can you feel us?” 

Carlos nods.

“Good!” Evie says. Now that she’s gotten a real response, she seems a little less nervous. She reaches out and rests a hand on Carlos’ arm. She’s not even trying to hide the fact that she’s probably taking his pulse in addition to offering some tactile comfort. It’s sweet, for Evie. “That’s really good, baby, just focus on us. Do you remember what happened in the library?” 

At twin nods from the both of their boys, Evie goes on. “Mal went all glowy on Fairy Godmother after she spelled you without asking, so now she’s not allowed in the room unless one of us lets her in. Mal made her promise. It was pretty awesome, actually.” 

Carlos coughs. “Cool,” he squeaks out, and then before he can draw another breath, Evie is shoving a water bottle into his hands. 

“Drink this.” she insists. “You sound terrible. I think Fairy Godmother’s spell must have made you inhale half the dust in the library.” 

Carlos coughs again before he can get the bottle open, and Evie is right, he does sound terrible. It’s entirely possible that passing out onto a dusty floor, being dragged halfway across campus, and then freaking out about it isn’t the best combination ever. He gets about two swallows in before he has to stop and cough again, and this time ends up hacking something that Mal is  _ never  _ going to think about ever again over the side of her bed, hopefully in the direction of the trash can. Boys, really. They have one crisis and think they own the place. 

“Sorry.” 

Evie waves a hand. “No need.” 

Caros gestures with the bottle, which, to be fair, got kind of all over. “Got water everywhere” 

Jay steals the bottle out of his hand before it can come to another accident. “Eh, I could use a bath. I’ve had someone’s sweaty ass on top of me for a while.” 

“Argh.” Carlos groans, and buries his face in his hands. “Can we just forget that this ever happened? Like, all of today?” 

Jay snorts. “Yeah, no. We really can’t.” 

Honestly, Mal would be 100% down with forgetting about this forever. She’s so very tired of having to deal with everything, all of the time. It would be a nice break to just accept the day as a loss, give it up, and keep going without talking about how she fucked it all up. 

Evie is holding Mal’s hand, somehow, and is reaching over to take Carlos’s as well. “You scared us, baby.” she says. “We didn’t know what you needed.” 

“Mal’dve figured it out.” he mumbles. “S’fine.” 

Evie is so, so gentle. “Yeah, she would’ve figured something out eventually,” she says, “but it still takes all of us to get anything done. That’s the whole pack, got it? No more passing out on us.” 

Carlos ducks his head. “I’ll try.” 

That’s the best they’re going to get out of him, considering. It’s good enough. Mal mostly just wants to pile her family up in every single blanket they own and never leave them alone again. Wrapped up and safe, and then she can patrol their perimeter, and not have to think about the  _ feelings  _ that are trying to make themselves known. Disgusting things. Wicked little girls don’t feel guilty when they make mistakes, they just feel glad that they’ve inconvenienced someone else. Self-reflection is fine for other people and all, but sometimes a girl just has to wrap her crew up like a bunch of blanket burritos and call it a day. Even though it’s night. 

Evie, beautiful mind reader that she is, follows Mal’s train of thought without a single word. “Do you feel any better, now that we’re all here?” she asks Carlos, “I’m almost done with you, I swear, but if you need any more drugs I want to do that before we sleep rather than later.” 

He nods. “Yeah. M’fine. Less headachey.” 

Evie laughs. “You’re not just saying that to get out of taking anything else, are you?” 

“No. I’d  _ never  _ lie to you.” 

It’s a beautiful delivery, all earnest and bambi-eyed, with just a hint of lower-lip tremble. It’s enough to make Mal almost believe him, even, and it’s probably just the night getting to her, her own pounding head, but oh, Mal’s chest hurts like something is going to burst out of it, and she can’t stay quiet any longer, she just can’t.

“I should have figured it out earlier!” she says, and oh, it  _ hurts _ . “I made things worse by running us all around, and I didn’t pay enough attention to you guys.” 

Evie, her beautiful Evie, turns to look at Mal. “It’s not your fault, M. We didn’t know it would get like this either.” 

Mal shakes her head. “The cues were there.” She says. It’s her fault, it’s always going to be her fault when things like this go wrong. She’s supposed to be the leader, the one who makes sure shit like this doesn’t have to happen to them anymore. “We were getting too stressed. I should have realized that bringing us in and out would mess everything up. I’m sorry.”

She tries to be a good leader, tries so hard to make sure her little family is safe, and she keeps messing it up anyway. Right now, she’s looking at Carlos, who ducks his head down like he’s trying to hide. He hates being the center of attention like this, hates people watching him. They all thrive best when they’re able to choose when to be in the shadows, but being ignored, underestimated, is a survival tactic for him in a way that it hasn’t had to be for the rest of them. He’s not intimidating the way that Mal is, didn’t have a reputation like Evie or Jay until he started running with them. There’s a lot of things about his orientation that suck, but this, the forced attention every few months, is something that Mal knows he hates. At the same time, though, she hurt him. More than the others, she caused Carlos to hurt, and it’s not fair if she tries to gloss over it with pretty words about how she hurt all of them. They do not experience hurt the same way, and if Mal has learned anything from her mother, it’s that hurt people are dangerous people, and Mal doesn’t want to be the one to put her family in danger. The thought of leaving any of them to hurt makes Mal feel sick, somewhere deep in her brain, her blood, her very being, so yeah, she has to apologize directly.

Carlos won’t look her in the eyes. “It’s fine,” he mumbles. “m’okay.”

Mal doesn’t want to touch him without a clear cue to do so. It’s a  _ thing  _ they’re doing.  __ “You’re fine  _ now. _ ” She insists. “We won’t do it again.”

He nods. That’s as much acceptance as she’s going to get, right now, and it’s as much as she deserves. “Can I have more water?” he asks instead.

Evie passes over the bottle.

Fuck. Mal needs to apologize to her too. Evie isn’t supposed to be the caretaker, that’s Mal’s job, and sure, she can’t do all of it at once, but assuming that Evie can take over everything just because she’s their beta, and a little bit less crazy than the rest of them, that isn’t fair to her either.

“I should apologize to you too, Evie.” Mal says. She doesn’t know  _ how.  _ Evie is so perfect, and it feels even worse to admit that she’s done something wrong to her. Mal can’t think straight; the words just kind of fall out of her mouth without any conscious thought on her part. “I shouldn’t have put that much pressure on you to take care of us all. You’re a part of this pack just as much as the rest of us, and I shouldn’t be relying on you to be the sole voice of reason while you’re--” 

“Hormonally insane?” Evie offers, voice poisonously sweet.

Mal winces. “Yes. Being a beta doesn’t change that, and I’m sorry.” 

“Apology accepted.” Evie leans over, a tiny change in body weight that lets her place a cool hand on Mal’s arm. Grounding. She flashes her girlfriend the smallest of smiles. “I get it.”

Mal leans into the touch. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says again. “Eves, I didn’t mean it.”

Evie keeps her face still and smooth for a moment, before she heaves in a breath and opens her arms up for her girlfriend. “Come here, Mal,” she says, gathering her up. “I know you didn’t want to hurt us. You were doing your best.”

Mal shivers. “My best isn’t very good, I guess.”

“No. You look at me,” Evie says, turning Mal’s face up towards her. “You are doing the best you can, and I won’t hear you telling yourself otherwise, do you hear me? You are the perfect alpha for us. We don’t need anything more, and none of us think that you’re not good enough, or whatever you’re telling yourself in that big dumb head of yours.”

“I just—”

Evie shakes Mal’s body like she’s a naughty kitten. “Nope. No buts, no just. You’re perfect for us. We wouldn’t want anyone else, right?”

Jay reaches over to bump Mal’s shoulder. “Right.” He says.

Carlos nods. “Yeah.”

Mal breathes in. 

Her throat still feels tight and strange, but her chest doesn’t hurt so much anymore, and the hard lump that was sitting in her throat is starting to slide away. “I’m still sorry that I accidently hurt you. All of you. I can’t promise that I’ll never do it again, because I’m still me, but I can promise that I won’t do it on purpose.”

“Good enough for me.” Carlos says. He’s leaning in a bit, like maybe it’s okay to touch him now, and he just doesn't want to say it.  _ Gods,  _ Mal wants to hug him. 

Evie pushes on Mal’s hip, pushing her further into the inexorable gravity of the pack _ ,  _ warm and safe and  _ together  _ again, thank the gods.  __ “Good enough for all of us, I think.” 

It’s the slightest movement after that, for Mal to fall forward, to pull Evie along with her, to wrap her arms as tight as she can around both of her boys. Her gentle alpha, her clever omega, and  _ Evie,  _ her perfect princess-healer-herbalist-beta Evie. Mal wants to hold on to all of these amazing people that she loves for forever, just like this, sharp sweat and sweet pack scent and flyaway hairs in her mouth and bony knees and all, each of the messy and disgusting and perfect parts of them tied up in each other just like this, and never ever  _ ever  _ let them go. 

+++

Of course, they can’t actually hold on to each other forever. It feels good, to touch each other, but of course someone end up squirming not-quite-right, _ Jay _ and knocking heads with somebody else, and then Mal gets a big mouthful of hair right in her mouth when she moves to try and counterbalance them all, because Evie moving to put a hand on her head where she got hit threw them all off balance, and then Carlos, the owner of most of the hair in Mal’s mouth, falls over because he was leaning on Mal to keep his side of the pile upright, and it all goes downhill from there. 

So, they reshuffle a bit. Evie takes a second to swap her clothes out for pajamas, and then again to grab some of her scrunchies, in the interest of preventing any more hair-mouth incidents. Mal has to double-check the locks again, and then refill Evie’s water bottle so that they can have one with a no-leak top to keep in the bed with them, and by the time they actually get everyone settled, like, for really-real settled, positive, no takesy-backsies this time, it’s late. 

Naturally, this is also when Fairy Godmother knocks on their door. 

“Knock knock!” she calls out, after the actual knock, like a fucking psychopath. Somehow, Mal had almost managed to completely block out the memory of Fairy Godmother making them promise to let her check up on them. Disgusting. 

Still. She’s the boss alpha, the leader, so she’s the one who’s got to hop out of the warm and very comfortable pile of blankets and bodies that they’ve been building so carefully on the bed, to unlock the door, and then take a careful three steps back, so as to look like she hasn’t just unlocked the door and was up for something else, because she totally doesn’t care about adults invading their space. It’s probably not worth the effort, but sometimes acting like a normal teenager can put Auradon adults off-guard. 

“Come in!” Mal calls out, once she’s made them wait as long as she can probably get away with. Again, this would be so much easier if she had all of her mother’s powers, and could just, like, read who it actually is through the door, but nope, she’s only got the fireballs, with none of the magical training that would really help with things like that. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for getting sent to no-magic prison. It’s been so helpful for learning life skills, like  _ magic.  _

The footsteps sounded like more than one person, but Fairy Godmother only made them promise to let “an adult” check on them, which means  _ one  _ adult at a time, thank you very much, and not a single eyeball more. Mal is prepared to fight them on this. 

The door swings open without even a dramatic creak from its well-oiled hinges, and Fairy Godmother steps inside. She’s followed by one of the school guards, carrying what looks like a bulging tote bag. 

Okay, fine, the guard can stay. People who bring them food are acceptable, so long as they know they’re on  _ thin fucking ice.  _

Fairy Godmother doesn’t seem to care that she’s violating the terms of their agreement. Bitch. 

“Hello, dearies!” she trills. “I have some things with me, just some supplies, nothing to worry about.” She directs the guard to set the bag down. “Thank you. There’s good. Oh-” she shoos him out of the way. “Okay.” 

Mal pushes her way in front of the others. “What do you want?” 

Fairy Godmother claps her hands together. “I want to make sure that my students are safe!” she explains with a smile that is starting to look extremely strained. “Two of you have been spelled in the last twenty-four hours, and all of you have been through quite the intense experience, I suspect!” 

“Why are you here, though?” Mal demands. “We all have phones. You could have called us.” 

Fairy Godmother’s expression doesn’t waver. “I’m here to check you over,” she says “I understand that you don’t want anyone interfering with your pack, but I do need to monitor your safety. A quick check, at least for you two, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Mal glances back at her pack. They don’t look happy, obviously, but Evie gives her a little nod. It would be stupid to turn down help when it’s being offered to them on a silver plate like this. They can’t afford to make any more mistakes tonight, especially if they want to keep living here until they make their move on the wand. 

“Fine.” Mal says. “Me first.” 

Fairy Godmother gestures her forwards. “Alright. Come here, dear. This shouldn’t hurt at all.” 

Mal steps up. Fairy Godmother places a hand on her forehead, in a gesture that feels almost… whatever. It’s not terrible. Her hand is kind of warm, and she’s sending some kind of magic through Mal, she can feel that, even if it doesn’t seem quite as scary and awful as she’s been told to expect from being spelled by another fairy. It’s kind of tingly, like stepping outside on a really cold day and having the wind hit you in the face. The feeling rushes down, through her head and down to her toes, then back up again, through her feet and legs and fingertips back to Fairy Godmother’s hand. 

Fairy Godmother takes her hand off of Mal’s head. She’s frowning, slightly. 

Mal steps backwards. “Done?” she asks. 

Fairy Godmother nods. “You’re all clear, lovie. You’re healing up just fine, from a magic standpoint. Don’t try any big spells for a while, you hear me? Those reverberations are still in your system, and they’ll come back something fierce if you try to force another major spell like that again, but they’re fading as I expected, and you’ll be clear again soon enough.” 

Mal shrugs. “Sure.” 

There’s a certain level of pain that Mal expects to feel every time she uses up her magic stores. She’s reached it before, just from the sheer number of little spells she’s been testing out since leaving the barrier, but she doesn’t anticipate needing to use any big spells anytime soon, and she’s pretty experienced at working through pain anyway. She’s willing to take a little extra reverb if that’s what needs to happen to protect her crew, and fading reverberations sounds like what the spellbook said would happen. Knowing her mother, there’s probably some spell to transfer the backlash to another person, if Mal feels like looking it up. That feels like something Maleficent would think up. 

Fairy Godmother, now that she’s done with Mal, gestures her next victim forward. “Next, dear?” she calls brightly. “Come on, I’ll just be a moment.” 

Reluctantly, Jay and Evie unfold from around Carlos. He steps forward, already glaring. 

“Hi.” he says flatly. 

Fairy Godmother takes this in stride. “You certainly seem like you’re feeling better, I hope?” 

Carlos folds his arms. “Because I’m conscious this time?” 

Mal fights back a snort. Even fresh out of a magic-induced sleep, that’s her boy. 

Fairy Godmother winces. “I would like to apologize for that. It was a mistake to spell you without consulting your pack. It was never my intent to harm you children, and I do apologize for any distress that occurred under my hands.” 

“Can you just do whatever you’re gonna do?” 

She bobs her head in a little nod. “I can. Would you prefer the magical or physical assessment?” 

Carlos shifts his weight. “Uh. Physical.” 

“Now how did I guess you’d pick that?” Fairy Godmother smiles, like this is a fun little inside joke that they’re both in on. Haha, the last time I used magic on you, you ended up unconscious with no warning! How fun! 

She pulls a thermometer out of her pocket. “Open up, dear.” she directs, and pops the thermometer in his mouth when Carlos obediently does so. She’s got a thin silver flashlight in the same pocket, which she uses to check his pupils as they wait for the beep. 

Everything must look fine, or at least better than before, because Fairy Godmother doesn’t say a word until the thermometer and flashlight are both safely back in her pockets, as clean and tidy as when she started. “Hm.” she says. “Your temperature is still up, dear, but within a normal range. No issues there. Does anything hurt? Your head, muscle aches, anything….else?” 

“I still have a headache, I guess.” 

Fairy Godmother is busily patting her way through all of her jacket pockets. Stupid, to do that while they’re all watching her. Mal hadn’t noticed the pocket on the inside collar of her jacket until she patted it just now. “Mm.” she says. “Is that all?” 

“Yeah.” Carlos says. He might be smaller than the rest of them, but he’s just as good (and if Mal is being completely fair, better than Evie) at tracking where valuables are. Mal watches him watching Fairy Godmother’s hands. She pulls a paper envelope out of the front pocket on her jacket, which she holds out to Carlos. 

“That’s nice, dear.” Fairy Godmother says.. “I brought some medicine with me, if you’d like to take that.” She hands over the envelope. Being given stuff is always nice, but there was something promisingly jingly in her right hip pocket as well, and if he weren’t so worn out, Mal knows that Carlos would have whatever it is squirrelled away in his own pockets already. 

“There’s two doses in here, one for now and one for later--oh, dear, don’t take both at once--” 

Carlos stops with both pills in his hand. “Why not?” he asks, all baby-faced innocence and misdirection. He’s not stupid enough to take something without knowing what it is, probably. Mal’s pretty sure. 

Fairy Godmother backpedals like she’s just figured out she’s flying her broomstick at a brick wall. “I want you to have another one to take in the night, if you need! Just so we don’t have to send someone up for you. We don’t need anyone bothering the night staff unless it’s a real emergency.” She pauses. “The medication is a pain reliever. Approved for use in children of all ages, and of course there shouldn’t be any issue if you do need a stronger dose. There’s no risk to it, not at all, and we would be able to send someone if you really need, but we don’t want to disturb anyone once you’re all settled for the night, you understand.” 

“Sure.” 

Fairy Godmother doesn’t seem to know what to do with this suddenly-compliant child in front of her. “I brought you all some things!” she says. “The bag has water and juice for all of you. If you feel worse, dear, or if anything changes, I want one of you to call the nurse, understand?” 

Carlos nods. “We get it.” 

Ah. They’re done here, Mal decides. The adults have toured their little freakshow, and now Mal wants to go the fuck to sleep and not think about anything for a few short hours. “Are we all set, Fairy Godmother?” she asks. 

“Ah! Yes. That is--” Fairy Godmother hesitates. “I’ll take my leave now, unless--” 

“What?” Mal demands. 

Fairy Godmother makes a small gesture towards the door. “You have another young visitor, if you’d like to allow him in.” she explains. “He’s quite worried about you especially, miss Mal.” 

Fuck. Fucking fuckity damn him to all hell. Of course he’s waiting for her. “Ben?”. 

Fairy Godmother nods. “Yes, dear. Should I bring him in?” 

_ Fuck.  _ The little overzealous do-gooder just can’t leave them well enough alone, can he? Not even at who-knows-when at night, when Mal would really rather be getting her crew the rest they so badly need. Of course he’s picked now to act like the perfect little prince. It would be crazy to think that Ben’s interest in them might end after he sat with her sleeping body in the infirmary earlier. Of course he’s outside again.  _ Damn  _ him. 

Mal forces her face into a sweet smile, even though she can feel herself clenching her jaw so tight that the motion is a struggle. “Might as well.” she agrees. “He’s seen enough, right? Let’s just-- let him in. Show him the whole freakshow. Why not!” 

Fairy Godmother shoots her a look, but she’s already hurrying over to pull the door open. “I’ll let him in for just a moment.” she says insistently. “He’s been quite worried. Ben, dear, you can come in now!” 

She waves Ben inside, pushing him forward when he stops a foot into the doorway. “I’ll let you all have a moment to yourselves.” she announces, and then hurries out. 

Ben nods. “Thank you, Fairy Godmother!” he calls to her retreating back. The door clicks closed with a gentle noise, and they’re alone. 

All five of them. 

Mal kind of wants to shove Ben up against the door and bite him all over, or else shove him out the window and laugh while he falls. It’s an uncomfortable dichotomy. She’s leaning towards the window, just for the simplicity, really. A quick push, and boom, that’s at least one problem solved. It would be so  _ easy,  _ is the thing, and it would feel  _ so  _ good while she’s doing it. 

Luckily, at least for Ben, he also seems to be visibly uncomfortable with the situation. That’s promising, on some level. At least he knows that he’s in the wrong. 

“Uh,” The crown prince of Auradon says. Trained in speech since he was a child, raised to run the country, and this is what he’s managed. He’s actually shuffling his feet. It’s adorable. Mal hates it. 

“Hi?” Ben tries again, shooting them one of those golden-boy smiles. “I wanted to check in. See how you guys are doing.” 

Mal scowls. “We’re fan-fucking-tastic.” she says, crossing her arms. Sure, Ben’s cute, but her pack is tired and hurting, and they don’t need Ben hanging around any longer than he has to. Being mean to him now might hurt her long game, but it’s going to be worth it if she can hustle him out of here before his lingering causes any more stress to her pack. 

“Okay.” Ben says. “Yeah. That’s fair.” 

He looks uncomfortable. Good. “What’s  _ fair _ , Ben?” Mal snaps at him. “What?” 

Ben stops, like maybe he’s just realized that Mal is trying to back him out of the room. “I’m sorry?” he tries, glancing over at the others. “I didn’t mean to--” 

Jay waves, from where he’s sprawled out over the bed, purposefully at-ease. “Mal’s just territorial. You’re fine.” 

Ben looks over at him, and then back to Mal, nervously. “Mal?” 

Ugh. Fine. Mal pulls out her pretty-princess smile. All the better to bite you with, my dear. “Jay’s right. I’m just grumpy. It’s not your fault.” 

Ben still looks nervous. “Do you need me to leave?” he asks. “I know Fairy Godmother was insisting, but I really don’t need to be here if it’s making things worse for you. I can come back in the morning, if that would be easier” 

Mal tosses her hair back over her shoulder. She’s tired, and she mostly just wants to tear into the stuff that Fairy Godmother brought and then pass out with her crew, but keeping people in line is important. Keeping the prince on her side is going to be critical in the coming weeks, so she’s going to act like the leader she was raised to be and suck it up for a little while longer. 

“Yeah, actually, we can get this over with now!” she says brightly. “What do you need to see? All your little project kids in one piece?” She spreads her hands, gesturing to the room at large., but also to her pack, who are piled on the bed again now that Fairy Godmother is gone. “Here we are, safe and sound.” 

Ben isn’t as stupid as he seems sometimes, and he wisely takes a step back, away from Mal’s outstretched hands. Good. He should know that she’s still a threat, even when she’s tired and spelled out for the night. 

“I just wanted to--” he starts, and then cuts himself off to drag a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.’ he finishes. “It didn’t feel right for me to go to bed without knowing that you’re all okay.”

“We’re fine--” Mal starts to snap, before she is rudely interrupted by her own pack member. 

“Thanks, Ben!” Carlos calls out from his rightful place in the middle of the pile. “It’s cool that you came by.” 

Ben’s shoulders drop at the sound. “You’re welcome.” he says, flashing one of those disarming smiles over at the pile of bodies tangled together on the bed. He looks a little bit dazed, actually, in a way that Mal is all too familiar with. Well then. This could be an interesting angle to work with. The beta prince seems to like pretty, sweet-smelling omega boys. It’s an interesting enough thought that Mal stores it away for later, when she’s more of a rational person again, and less of a mess of teenage hormones contained in a body that desperately wants to run this non-pack beta out of her space and possibly burn him to a crisp in the process. Just to make sure he really gets the message, of course. Not for any personal reasons. 

Mal folds her arms, wetting her lips as she does so, and Ben startles out of his daze.  _ Very  _ interesting. Definitely something for her rational self to think more about later. 

“Oh! I just remembered!” Ben says, pulling something out of his bag. Oh. Mal hadn’t noticed the bag before, but there it is, hanging off of Ben’s hip. Huh. “I brought you something!” he finishes, looking almost embarrassed, all pink and flustered and cute with it. “You don’t have to take it, obviously, no pressure.” 

Mal lets Ben’s outstretched hand dangle for a solid minute before she reaches out to take the sealed cup that he’s holding out to her. It’s made of some kind of heavy metal, dark green, and when she touches it, the metal is warm to the touch and gives her a little tingle of magic energy. “What’s in it?” she asks carefully, holding it away from her body, just in case. 

Ben frowns. “Hot chocolate?” he says, hesitantly. “We don’t have it in the dining hall, so you might not have had it before. It’s really sweet, and it’s hot, so--” 

Mal swallows her mouthful despite the burning on her tongue. Oops. 

“--be careful.” Ben finishes. “Too late, huh? I’m surprised you didn’t burn your mouth.”

The descendants of dragons, even the smallest bastard daughters of dragons-in-exile, don’t have much to fear from heat. Mal’s pretty sure she shouldn’t say that, though, so she takes another sip instead. She’s more careful this time, and surprisingly, the drink is actually lovely, rich and sweet and not bitter at all. 

Without turning her back on Ben, Mal stretches over to pass the cup off to her pack. They’ll like it, she’s sure. They deserve to have something nice after the night she’s put them all through. 

“It’s not awful. Congrats.” 

Ben’s concerned face cracks into a grin. He barks out a laugh. “Hah! Thanks. I brought cups too, if you guys want them,” he says, pulling them out of the bag as well. “I can just leave them here, or whatever. The thermos is enchanted, it always holds exactly the right amount, so you guys can all share without it running out or anything.” He waves his hands a little, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he’s delivered his gift. “It’s pretty handy sometimes, so, uh, yeah. I’ll just-- let you guys go.” 

Ben stutters himself to a stop. His cheeks are pink again, and his hair is messed up from where he’s been running his nervous hands through it. Mal does still want to run him out of the room, but it’s harder for her to remember  _ why  _ exactly she wants to do so when he’s here in front of her looking like this. 

There’s a moment of charged silence as Ben’s words fade, and Mal resists the urge to pull him over and mess him up more, either with a knife or her mouth. 

“Thanks.” Mal says finally, deciding. 

Evie echoes her. “Thank you.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Really, Ben.” Mal says. “We appreciate it.” 

Ben’s face flushes even darker, reaching just the prettiest shade of red, and he ducks his chin down to hide it. Oh, they could eat this sweet boy  _ right  _ up. “You’re welcome.” 

Mal takes a step closer, tilting her head so that she’s watching Ben through the fan of her eyelashes. She’s not quite as good at this as Evie is, but she’s got the general idea of it down pretty well. 

“You know,” she says slowly, drawing the words out like they’re the most important, secret thing she’s ever said. “if you wanted to come again tomorrow, maybe bring some more of this  _ hot chocolate  _ stuff, we’d let you in.” 

Ben looks like he’s been struck. “Really?” he asks. 

Evie bounces up beside Mal, hanging off her shoulder like a good beta. “We’d love to have you here.” she coos. 

“Yeah.” Ben says, nodding. “Of course. Yeah.” 

Mal smiles at him sweetly, glancing over to the door as she does so. “Great! See you tomorrow, then.” 

Ben follows her looks, and laughs. “Is that my cue to get out?” he asks. 

Evie laughs with him, and lays a single beautiful hand on his arm, pulling him away from Mal. “Yes.” she says, softening it with a dazzling smile. “We will see you tomorrow, though?” 

“If you want me.” 

“Oh, we want you.” Mal purs, even as she’s hustling him out towards the door. “Always want you, princeling.” 

Ben hesitates. Damn. Maybe a little too much there. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.” he says. “If you’re sure. Text me?” 

Evie waves at him, although she’s back to hanging off of Mal's shoulder now. “We will.” she assures him. “We’d never forget about you.” 

Ben laughs. His hand is on the door. “Okay, then. That’s good to hear. Um. Goodnight?” 

Mal’s pretty sure she won’t be able to get away with an actual shooing motion, but a little wave can’t hurt. If she weren’t wiped the fuck out of magic she would give him a little green-eyed blast, but that’s too much for tonight, after everything. 

“Night, Ben.” she says, instead, giving him a little wave on his way out the door. The princeling has the balls, the absolute  _ nerve,  _ to wink at her on his way out.  _ Men,  _ honestly. 

The door shuts behind him with a solid click. Mal shakes Evie off, and hurries over to do up their locking system again. They’ve got the manual locks that came on the door, but they’ve also added an electronic alarmed lock to the bolt, and it takes a moment to reset. Mal can feel her body relaxing as she does so, reassuring her that her pack is safe now, that she’s doing a good job protecting them, but her mind is still rushing like a waterfall. 

Ben seems like he’s on their side for now. He doesn’t hate her, at least as far as she can tell. Evie will know more, she’s always been better with the people side of things. Jay, too. He’s better at manipulating people, rather than knowing the  _ why  _ of how he gets them to do what he wants, but it’s still a skill that can work to their advantage. They can make this work, get the prince on their side, get their shit together and get the fuck out of here without ever getting the adults involved… 

Mal lets herself fall onto the bed before she even realizes that she’s done locking up. It feels right, warm and close and slightly squished with all the bodies piled up together in a space that’s meant for significantly less of them. Evie nudges her with a hip, and Mal can feel one of the boys mouth-breathing on her arm. Sure, maybe there’s a knee in her side, and at least one of them still has their boots on, but it’s nice, just to be together like this. 

There’s a lot of things Mal should be doing. Plotting, scheming, patrolling. Making sure everyone has their shoes off instead of tracking chunks of mud into the bed. Shoving water bottles at all of them. Figuring out what to say to Ben, when he stops by tomorrow. 

Next to her head, somebody shifts around, and Mal has to dodge a sharp elbow to the face. Sure, there’s things that she needs to get done, but it’s late and she’s tired and somehow, none of it feels as important as just sticking together, right here and now. She’s got her pack with her, after all, and she’s pretty sure with all of them together, this isn’t where her story ends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MADE IT Y'ALL!! 
> 
> Seriously though, this is the longest thing I've written in a while, and I'm so happy to have made it to the end! There's always more of this universe living rent-free in my head, so I'll probably upload more (and maybe some of the scenes I had to cut from this fic for pacing??) eventually, but for now I am so happy that I finished writing this 101 page monster, and if you made it to the end with me, congrats!


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